#i have 80s/slasher au

[vronism]

i am such a boring bitch, but ask me about jess

"canon" canon or like, some aus????

[yessu]

very suddenly remembering this messy colored scribble of an AU brody! it's honestly so funny how cute and approachable he looks when he's actually just as fucked up as the rest of his crew.

[ssincielo]

nobody:

me after watching evil dead rise: does lourdes give off Final Girl vibes? would that be her Aesthetic? what if i make a verse out of this-

[gardengirl222]

omg lene you should do something about a 80's slashers au with rafe and the boys that would be soooo cool!! ❤️❤️

!!! omigod yesss i'm gonna start with 80's slasher!rafe if feel like he'd be a creepy little stalkerrr, def season 2 rafe 💞

𐦍༘₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - non con, violence, stalking, spanking, slight breeding kink, knife play, dark!rafe - ₊˚⊹

you sat in the comfort of your bedroom, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, finishing up some homework while talking with a girlfriend of yours on the phone. you reach your hand out to your nightstand to grab the nail file when the sound of the door closing causes you to freeze, being left home alone, your heart starts to race, and you hang up the phone and walk up to your door. you pull down your pretty little white nightgown so it covers your ass as you press your ear to the door to make sure it was just your parents.

all you hear is silence so you shrug and convince yourself it was just your mind playing tricks on you, then the phone starts to ring again, thinking it was just your friend calling you back, and you pick up the phone. 

"hello?" you speak with your voice lowered.

"hey babyface" you stop moving when you hear a voice you don't recognize.

"who's calling?" you try to sound assertive but end up sounding like a scared puppy. 

"i've been uh- watching you for a long time, an' i figured i should introduce myself," he says, his voice all gravely. you grip on the handle of the phone and reach an arm over to close your curtains quickly.

"stop that! it's not funny, whoever this is leave me alone." you almost whine. 

"nah can't do that baby, you looked too pretty in that nightgown...you wearin' panties underneath?" he continues. 

"i'm gonna call my boyfriend an-and he'll find out who you are and beat you up!" you stutter.

"you're not gonna do that, cuz uh- i'm in the house, and if you hang up-"

"i'll call the police!" you cut him off.

"i need you to listen to me, if you don't wanna die, you need to walk down to the living room slowly- you try to run and i'll catch you. if you don't come down, i'll go up n'get you." he then hangs up, your chest heaving as tears start to form in your eyes, you think about climbing out the window but it is on the second floor and the man might catch you and kill you! you decide to grab a chair to put against the door to keep him coming in but it's too late, as you take one step backward trying to drag the chair you feel the blade of a knife press against your neck. you gasp, ready to scream.

"shshshsh, behave." the man shushes you, pressing himself behind you, god he must be tall. "told you to listen" he coos condescendingly. 

"please, please don't..." you sob. 

"hey, hey! shut up- listen to me alright?" he raises his voice causing you to shut your eyes and nod slowly in fear, tears spill down your face. "good girl. want you to lay down on your bed and stay there, don't move, scream, talk or do anything 'less i tell you." you nod again slowly and he removes the knife from your neck, you do as you are told and lay down on your bed, silently sobbing. 

you look at the man, face now lit up by the soft light of your nightstand lamp, you watch him come closer and wipe some of the sweat forming on his forehead under his messy hair with the back of his hand that's holding the knife. he grins, getting up on your bed and tossing the knife next to him as he pins you down. 

"r-rafe?..." you whisper, now realizing who it is.

"yeah! yeah baby it's me..." he continues to grin. 

"get off! please rafe, i don't wanna do this with you!" you whine and start to squirm a little bit.

"you don't really have a choice." he mumbles as he runs his rough hands up and down your thighs, stopping to grab the hem of your lace panties. "you wear this for me?" he says pulling them down as you really start to cry, trying to get him off of you by pushing at his shoulders but he's too strong.

"i have a- my boyfriend-" you start but then he looks back into your eyes and smiles again. "nah, you don't, i got rid of 'im... cut him up, he's in the trunk of my truck. wanna see?" he asks, his eyes following yours, bringing his hand up to wipe your tears away lovingly. 

"why!? why are you doing this!" you sob and try and move your face away from his touch. "i love you, i love you so much and you never talked to me or...looked at me and i need you to love me too…say it…" he demands. you shake your head no and try and push him off, pissed, rafe manhandles you. he flips you onto your stomach and lifts you up by your waist so your face is smushed against the messy sheets, ass in the air. "you fucking brat." he spits out.

he yanks your panties down and smacks your ass with his large hand, holding your wrists in the other. he forcefully spreads your legs and places a hard slap on your poor wet little cunt.

you let out a yelp as he "soothes" your throbbing pussy by rubbing your clit with the rough pads of three fingers. "are you a virgin princess?" he whispers, pressing a gross, sloppy kiss to your cheek. you whine out and try to move your face away. "what? you don't like my kisses?" he leans in again to give you a few more of those wet kisses, making taunting kissy sounds that make you scrunch up your face and mewl.

"gonna make you feel reeeally good baby, gonna make this little pussy cream all over me, yeah?" he rambles, grabbing the knife with his free hand, bringing it back to your neck. "please rafe, i've never- "

"you waited for me? huh? princess saved herself for me." you can hear his smile, he's almost relieved that he will be your first and last. he pulls himself out of his boxers and starts to line himself up. "i would'a stretched you out a bit first but this cunt is a dripping mess already so."

you scream as you feel his fat tip press against your entrance. "shhhhshh, s'just the tip." he murmurs, easing himself in slowly until he's stretching you as you've never felt, his tip kisses your cervix. "ow! it's too big, too much, too big..." you ramble, squeezing down on his cock unable to really move due to the knife.

"n'you are so tight, fuck, this is where you should'a always been..taking me like this babydoll." he grits through his teeth as he starts to thrust causing you to whine and to try and pull your hands away from his grip.

"keep cryin', it's only making me harder princess," he grunts, tears continue to stream down your face. he pounds into you now hard and fast, you wish you could grab onto his shoulders or hair as he starts to hit that sweet spot.

"stop it! rafeeee" you whine, he shushes you by tossing the knife on the bed again and covering your mouth with his hand as he continues his assault on your cunt. "i should cum in you, knock you up so you won't ever be able to leave me." he breathes out, he lets go of your face and wraps that hand around your neck to bring you up to kiss your neck. "no! no no please pull out! please rafe!" you cry.

he lets go of your neck and throws you back down you your face hits the mattress again, he lets go of your wrists so you are now gripping your sheets. "you know that's the knife i used to stab your boyfriend? he begged like a little bitch. he didn't deserve you." he reaches a hand around to grab your pussy and pull you closer to him, then rubbing your throbbing clit.

"m'na cummm" you mewl, body giving into how he's touching you so roughly yet gently.

"i know baby, give it to me, all over my cock c'mon" he encourages with that tone, and feeling him so deep in you and hitting that spot your body goes numb. shutting your eyes tightly as hot white explodes in you making you feel like you are on a roller-coaster.

he grips your waist and with the other hand, he's lovingly brushing back your messy baby hairs due to your sweaty forehead. "atta girl, thereee, see? i knew you could be good for me." he thrusts once more hard and deep, shooting his thick hot load all up in you causing you to whine at the feeling and making him groan.

he pulls out of you, sticking his two fingers into your pussy to push his cum back in, then leaning in to bite your ass. you let out a little scream, he flips you on your back and grabs the knife, gripping your thigh he brings the knife over to carve a little RC into the meat of your thigh. you try not to thrash around but you do let out another little scream at the pain.

"yer' all mine now kid." he smiles, exhaustion taking over as you let out shaky breaths and let him lean in to press icky kiss to your lips. ᥫ᭡

[justmeinadaze]

I was rereading your aftercare series and I thought about if reader and her bf had like really bad sex, maybe like in his car or something, and she doesn't even cum, and then he drops her off at home where Steve and Eddie help her get off and then take the best care of her 💙

Ok so I have a couple of requests in waiting I may use this version of them for. I think it will help focus my brain and since a lot of your requests are like this I think I can fit it into this AU and get them out faster :)

I hope you like!

Why Can't I Be in a Meg Ryan Movie? (Or Even a Good Porno)

Warnings: Actor Steve Harrington/ Rockstar & Actor Eddie Munson and Actress Fem Reader, SMUT, in the shower :), some heavy petting on set, dirty talk, reader and her boyfriend have sex and she does not have a good time (quick and brief), FLUFF, these three are filming a movie together and since they are supposed to be friends they BECAME friends behind the scenes, ANGST, reader is unhappily in a relationship, he's a dick sabotaging scenes and talking down to her, they are filming an 80s Slasher movie together so their are times those scenes are conveyed (mentions of death, blood, needing to feel safe, etc.) Those scenes are brief.

Word Count: 4897

The metalhead swings open his front door, gun drawn as you squeak and hide behind your gorgeous, captain of the football team best friend. 

“Whoa! It’s us, James, it’s us.”

“Jesus, Carter. What the fuck happened?!”, the long-hair boy asks as he gestures you two inside and locks the door. 

“Cindy’s fucking dead.”, the jock answered with a gruff tone as he guided you towards the sink and began washing the blood from your hands as you sobbed. 

“Shit. Nina, I’m so sorry.”

“I-I-It’s ok.”

The man’s palms grip your cheeks as he wipes your tears with his thumbs. 

“It’s not. We can make it through this. I know we can. We just need to figure out who this fucker is so we can kill him ourselves.”

“Agreed but we aren’t doing that tonight. James, is it alright if we stay here with you?”

“Dude, yeah, of course. Sweetheart, you can take the bed and we can—”

“No!”, you cry out. “Please…I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course, there’s only one fucking bed.”

Everyone in the room groans as you frustratingly lay your forehead against the tattooed arm you had reached out to grab. 

“Cut! Ryan, we’ve talked about this. You can’t interrupt a scene.”

“Aren’t you shooting in the studio next door?”, Steve growled in annoyance as he threw the prosthetic bat he was holding on to the counter. 

“Maybe they got tired of him to.”, Eddie whispered loud enough that your boyfriend could hear. 

When you received the script from your agent to be in a typical 80’s slasher, you immediately turned him down for fear of being type cast like some of the other actresses you read about who starred in the genre but when he mentioned you’d be working with not only the massive heartthrob and brilliant actor Steve Harrington but also the rockstar of one of your favorite bands Corroded Coffin, you changed your tune. 

 When you told your boyfriend however he was less than amused. Honestly, you thought it was more his anger that you were getting a high paying job than who you were working with. Ryan’s own career was starting to stall as the ratings for his current show were in decline. You noticed he had begun taking that out on you in subtle ways like demeaning you at a party or, like right now, sabotaging a scene. 

“Fuck you, Munson. I’m a respected actor! You’ve been in what one other movie?”

“Well shit. He got me, Harrington. What the fuck would I know about being an actor? Please Ryan can you teach me how to get on your level? Teach me how to be an asshole just like you!”

“OK! Jesus.”, the director whined. “Can we reset and do this with no interruptions please?!”

Both men turn and you follow Steve to the other side of the door. 

“I’m so sorry, you guys. He’s not always like this.”

“Hm. You need to be careful with that one, honey. I know he’s your boyfriend and all but I don’t want him to ruin all the hard work you’ve done here.”

“Steve, this is a slasher film about a killer who wears a suit and clown mask killing high school seniors. It’s not Citizen Kane.”, you giggle making them smile. 

“Yeah but picture people dressing up like you like they do with Jamie Lee Curtis or that hot chick whose show was big when we were school. What was it, Steve?”

“I have no idea.”, he chuckles. 

“With the hair and the black dress that…” Eddie mimed pushing his chest together as if he had boobs making you laugh harder. 

“Elvira?”

“YEAH! Good job, princess. Thank you. Imagine people dressing like you in that sexy ass tank top and jeans that hug them hips.”

You grinned as you lightly punched his arm. Since Steve was playing your best friend, after you were cast you reached out to him and invited him to lunch hoping to get to know him better. When he told you Eddie was hisbest friend, you insisted he bring him along and over the last few months had gotten to know both men fairly well. You loved their attitudes and the way they made you laugh. You felt safe with them which in a media dominated by men you appreciated. 

***

“How was your date last night?”, you ask Steve while the three of were laying in the bed on set. 

You were a bit nervous because this was supposed to be your big kiss scene with him so you were trying to lighten the mood as much as possible. 

“Pfft terrible. She whined the entire time about my restaurant choice and was rude to the staff.”, he sighed as Eddie giggled behind you. 

“I tooooold you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up, Munson.”

“See we never had that problem when we shared girls.”

“Whoa! Excuse me. You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”, you laughed with wide eyes. 

“Ok, first off, it did happen a few times which is why we aren’t currently in a relationship. Secondly… Eddie and I…may have shared a partner a time or two.”

“Wow. Do you two, um,…”

“No, we don’t ‘um’ but yeah we like the way a woman unfolds when we take care of her.”, the metalhead smiles making you blush a bit. “Have you ever tried it?”

“Oh, uh, no. I’m not really…adventurous like that I guess.”

“Captain asshole doesn’t blow your mind?”

Your smile widens as you punch his chest.

“Not…no. I don’t know. Ryan tries but lately he seems so distracted.”

“Hm. That’s a shame. Beautiful girl like you should have all the attention on her.” Steve throws a soft grin your way, deepening the pink around your cheeks. 

You’re suddenly very aware you are in a long heavy metal shirt with underwear and no pants while both men are in sweatpants with Steve shirtless. 

“Ok, gang, get comfy. We’re going to do some lighting tests real quick to make sure we’re still good and then we’ll start rolling.”

Nodding, you three get in your places that were discussed in rehearsal. As Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and you do the same across Steve’s tummy, you feel very thankful your boyfriend wasn’t there today. After lifting his arm, you rest your head on his chest as he casually starts playing with your hair. 

“I’m not fucking anything up am I?”, he asks in a deep, husky voice you weren’t prepared for. 

“Oh, uh, no I think…I think you’re fine.” 

“You can put your hand on my chest if you want.”

Blinking up at him, you do what he suggests and a sigh leaves his lips at the feeling. 

“Ok, we are good to go. Everyone is sleeping except you Carter. Nina wakes up, you say your lines, kiss, and then you hear a noise that startles you.”

Your eyes shut as you nuzzle into him as he continues to move his fingers through your hair. 

“Alright, I need quiet on set and action!”

Your head stirs at the feeling of fingers caressing you as your eyes flutter open.

“Carter?”

“Yeah, hey, I’m right here.”

“Have you gotten any sleep?”

“No but I’m ok. James is past the fuck out though.” You both laugh as you glance behind you towards the sleeping metalhead. “He rolled over a while ago and wrapped his arms around you. I guess he thinks you’re a teddy bear or something. You ARE very comfy.”, he grins as he looks down at you. “I’m a little jealous.”

“James IS very pretty.”

His smile grows as he kisses your forehead. 

“Naw, honey. I mean he is very beautiful but…not as beautiful as you.”

Your eyes scan his as you both slowly tilt forward. When his lips land on yours, your body lights up as your palm lightly grips his cheek. His kisses come a bit more passionately as his own hand grips the back of your neck. As his tongue slides into your mouth, you groan as your mind is suddenly clouded with fuzzy feelings of your best friend. 

Is it just you or can you feel your other friend pressing himself against you. Isn’t he asleep? Maybe I could turn and—

“CUT! Guys! Listen!”, the director yells. “I said cut like five times! Y/N, Steve, remember in rehearsal we said it was a soft, delicate kiss.”

“Sorry.”, the actor whispers before turning towards you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.” You glance towards Eddie whose eyes are squeezed shut still but he’s murmuring things to himself. 

“Cold showers, cold showers, Wayne naked, fucking Jeff puking after too many booze…”

“Are you alright?”, you ask.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m, um, I’m ok. I’m sorry if you, um, we can…I’m sure the intimacy lady can put like a pillow or something…”, he suggests as his gaze shifts between his legs under the blanket. “Y/N, I don’t think you’re supposed to moan when you kiss him.”

“Huh?”

“You moaned when you were kissing me.”, Steve answered breathily as he continued staring into the void with wide eyes. 

“That’s why I’m…I have a… you have really sexy moans, sweetheart.”

“And you taste really fucking good.”

Your eyes lock with Steve’s at his comment as a heavy exhale escaped your lungs. 

“Alright, gang, reset!”

Laying back in your original positions, you realize Eddie’s is a bit farther from you than he was before. Biting your bottom lip, you turn your head as much as you can towards him. 

“Ed, you can…you can scoot closer.”

“Y/N, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not.” To emphasis your point, you push your lower half into his and a subtle groan leaves his throat. Holding your hips, he grinds against you making your eye lids droop as your rub your thighs together and lift your leg over the other man’s waist, just grazing the growing bulge in the sweats they had them in. 

“Ok! We’re ready to go. Take two and we’re rolling…action!”

You ARE very comfy.”, he grins as he looks down at you. “I’m a little jealous.”

“James IS very pretty.”

His smile grows as he kisses your forehead. 

“Naw, honey. I mean he is very beautiful but not as beautiful as you.”

The boy’s lips feverishly crash to yours as he twists his torso to give himself better access to your

 mouth. 

“Carter.”, you moan.

“Y/N.”, he answers in your ear that’s furthest from the mic.

Your eyes shoot open as you realize what’s happening and no one is in character anymore. Pushing at his chest, he sees the slight regret in your eyes as he tries to regain his composure. 

“I think I heard something.”, you point absently off camera. Throwing off the blanket, he grabs his weapon before you quickly grab his arm. “Be careful…please. I-I-I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His eyes soften as he leans in and give you a small peck on the lips. 

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be ok. I promise.”

############

“Geez.”, Ryan laughed as you tore at his pants in the back seat of his car. “What’s got you all hot and bothered?”

“I just…missed you.”

Your boyfriend’s grin grows as he takes hold of your lower back and flips you around till he’s on top of you yanking down your pants. As he kisses your neck and rubs his cock along the cotton blocking your core, your mind begins to wonder. 

Steve’s lips tasted amazing. I wonder what Eddie tastes like. Feeling them groan in my ear…fucking hell…

As Ryan’s length entered your sex, you suddenly felt underwhelmed.

They both felt so big even through their pants. I wonder what they would feel like inside of me…together…moaning like they had…

“Fuck, babe.” His body shook as he thrust his seed inside of you a bit too aggressively as you laid there unsatisfied. “God that was… did you…?”

Nodding your head, he beamed down at you as he kissed your forehead before reaching for a napkin on the floor of his car. When he handed it to you, you held it without moving as a disgusted look painted your face. 

“I have to get back to work.  You should go home and take a shower. You smell like sweat and that asshole rocker’s cigarettes.”

With that, he exited his vehicle and walked back inside. 

Shaking your head, you ambled over to your own car and reached into your glove compartment for some of the tissues you stored there. You sat in the driver’s seat for a while staring off into space feeling slightly dirty and used. 

You may have initiated the contact but lately Ryan hadn’t been satisfying you and the way he was after didn’t make you feel any better. 

Abruptly, you slammed your door and started the engine, driving off into what you thought was no particular direction. 

#############

“Hi, um, I’m sorry. I must be at the wrong—”

“Are you looking for Steven?”, the girl interrupted sassily. “Yeah you’re in the right place but don’t expect anything from either of these assholes.”

“Carol, why are you answering my door? I told you, please, get out.”

Steve’s eyes met yours as fear flashed through them. 

“All yours, babe.”

As she stomped past you, the boy took her place in the doorway of the apartment. 

“I’m sorry. I should just go.”

“No! Wait, no!”, he yelled panicked as he reached for your arm. “Please, come in. She was just…that’s the girl I had my date with who was rude, remember? She came over because…I didn’t call her? I don’t know.”, he shrugs. 

Stepping into their shared space, you were surprised by how modest it was. With how much money they made together, you would have expected them in a penthouse or a mansion. 

“Is the pterodactyl gone?”, Eddie asks as he exits his room pausing when he sees you. “Shit. Hey, Y/N. Are you alright? You look frazzled.”

“Why pterodactyl?”, you ask with a small smirk as you feel both their eyes intensely scanning you over. 

“She, uh, came in here like a bat out of hell screeching. Raaaaaaaw!”, he mimics as he spreads his arms like wings, smiling when you laugh. “See? I’m an actor.”

“What’s going on, honey? I thought you were spending some time with Ryan.”, Steve inquires as he leans over the back of their couch. 

“I was! I did… we, um, spent some time together… in his backseat…”

“And then he just sent you home?”

“Yeah, well, not right away. First he came in like 3 seconds and I learned that my boyfriend who I’ve been sleeping with for 4 months has no idea what a woman orgasming feels like because he asked me if I did and when I told him yes he got super excited. Then he proceeded to hand me a dirty napkin from his floor to clean myself with and then promptly told me I should go home and shower because I smell gross like sweat and your cigarettes Eddie.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised he even fucking noticed because I was barely even present during the whole experience because I was too busy imagining you two and what you would feel like inside me! Now I feel like a whore, used, and disgusting and I didn’t know where else to go so I just started driving and somehow ended up here and—”

Steve pulling you into his arms and pressing your face into his chest cut you off as you cried.

“Hey, Munson, is your shower actually clean?”

“I’m always on tour, Harrington, so what do you think?”

“No then?” Both boys smile when you giggle against him. “That’s ok. We can use mine. Come on, pretty girl.”

Eddie trails after you both as Steve guides you into his room and towards the bathroom. Opening the door to his standing shower, you marvel at how big it actually is. 

“Wow. This is very nice.”

“Thank you.”, he smiles as he sticks his palm under the water to make sure it its warm. As the steam starts to rise, he gestures inside. “All for you, honey.”

“Just me?”, you whisper as your gaze shifts between them. 

“What would make you comfortable, Y/N?”, Eddie asks as he steps closer to your side. 

Swallowing nervously, you close your eyes as you lift off your shirt and toss it to the side before unbuttoning your jeans to do the same. 

A tap on your shoulder causes you to open them again meeting the metalhead’s chocolate irises as he tries not to glance down your body. 

“You have to say it, sweetheart. If you don’t want this or anything at all that’s absolutely fine. If you want us to even just sit out here while you’re in there or just to stand in there with you…”

“Or if you want us to do some of those things you were imagining us doing when you were with Ryan…you have to say it.”, Steve adds.

Nodding silently, you remove your bra and slide down your panties, their gazes never leaving your face. 

“I want you two to shower with me and take care of me.”

Softly smiling, the remove their clothes and you provide them the same courtesy they did you, keeping your eyes forward. After guiding you in first, they follow behind and you let out a deep sigh as the water hits your hair. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. I know I’ve always jokingly flirted with you but I do think you are gorgeous.”, Eddie admits making you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Can I kiss you?”

As soon as you get permission your lips connect to his, reveling in the taste of cigarettes that Ryan seemed to have so much disdain for mixed with mint and a hint of alcohol. While his fingers tangled in your hair to pull you closer, Steve’s hands behind you roamed everywhere, down your arms, along your stomach, and up to your breasts. 

The metalhead tenderly kissed your jawline, trailing the valley of your chest. Almost as if offering him a taste, the boy behind you cupped the bottom of you breast as Eddie wrapped his lips around the bud eliciting a soft moan from you. 

“Eddie.”

“Does that feel good, honey?”, Steve murmured in your ear as you leaned your head against his shoulder. 

“Yes. S-So good.”

Descending to his knees, Eddie turned you to face the other man, opening your legs a bit wider and you mewled when his long tongue flicked your entrance. 

“How do you feel now, Y/N?”

“Fuck.” Your response makes Steve chuckle as he grabs your cheeks and brings your lips to his. “Can I…touch you…please…”, you ask between each kiss. 

“Baby, you can touch us as much as you want as long as you’re comfortable.”

As soon as your small hand takes hold of his cock he groans as his forehead falls on yours, panting against your mouth as you stroke him. 

“Shit. We’ve been thinking about you all afternoon. How you would feel and what you would sound like.”

Your head leans against his chest as Eddie’s tongue moves faster inside of you. Abruptly your knees buckle but the metalhead is faster than his friend as he catches you and leans your back against his chest. Looping his arm around your front, he thrusts his two of his fingers into your cunt while you cling to his wrist. 

“That good, baby girl? Good, you deserve it. You’re not a whore, sweetheart, and you’re definitely not disgusting. Cum for me, Y/N.” Turning your head, you passionately kiss him as you come undone. “Fuck, your pussy is so tight when you cum. Are you kidding me?”

“M-More. I want more. Please.”

Steve lifts you up just enough to place your back on the tile as he climbs on top of you and you promptly circle your legs around his waist. 

“This ok? The tile isn’t cold, right?” Shaking your head, you lean up to kiss him, grinding your lower half against his desperately. “Are you… on—fuck—can I cum inside you?”

“Please.”

He licks his lips at the word as his cock twitches against you. Reaching between your bodies, he grips his base and as you tilt up to look you moan at how big he seems even in his own large hand. 

“Go slow at first. I’ve…I’ve never had someone as big as you two.”

“Shit, honey, you can’t say stuff like that.”, Steve breathily laughs as his head hangs, his damp hair tickling your face a bit. “Okay…okay, I can do that.”

Feeling extra warmth by your side, you turn to see Eddie laying on his side as he flashes you a soft smile. Biting his own lip, he watches as your face contorts and your back arches as the boy on top of you starts pushing into your core. 

“It’s ok, princess. You’re ok.”

Steve’s head fell next to your opposite side and your pussy couldn’t help but clench at the sound of his whimpers in your ear. His hand suddenly smacks the floor beside you as his arm bent at the elbow. The action startled you but made his friend laugh. 

“That hard, Harrington?” Your eyes meet his in confusion as he beamed down at you. “He’s trying to control himself from not just pounding into you. Your little pussy is driving him crazy.”

This confused you even more since every man you had been with never had the reaction Steve was having now. Even Ryan made it seem like you and your body were nothing special. 

“Hey, hey come back, Y/N.”, Eddie cooed as he caressed your cheek with his finger. 

That caused Steve to push up on his arms to look down at your face. 

“Are you ok? I’m not h-hurting you or anything right?”

“No, you’re not. No one…no one has ever…made me feel like…BEING with me is anything special.”

They knew what you meant and it broke their hearts as the man inside you kissed your forehead before placing his head back where it had been by your ear. 

“I’m sorry, baby. You deserve so much better then that. Your pussy should be worshipped. Fuck me. I swear, Y/N, I’ve never had anyone as tight as you. I could fucking live inside you. God… I knew it when you kissed me. You’re definitely fucking special.”

When he was fully sheathed inside you, your hands clung to his shoulders while he waited patiently for you to tell him he could move. 

Your hips tested the waters as you rolled them upwards making you both moan as your eyes rolled back. 

“P-Please, Steve.” Tilting up a bit, he placed his nose against yours as he slowly thrust into your body. “Fuck, I can feel you in my stomach.”

His mouth fell open as his pants warmed your face even more than the shower steam around you. As your nails scratched down his back, his pace quickened, hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly as you whimpered at the feeling. 

“Steve. Harder, baby.”

Pushing up onto his knees, the man gripped your thighs for leverage as he honored your request. 

“Like that, Y/N? Is he about to make you cum?”, Eddie murmured in your ear as his palm held your face.  “Cum, Y/N. Let him feel what I did. Trust us, sweetheart, we know exactly what a beautiful woman coming feels like.”

Arching your back high off the tile beneath you, your vision was blinded by white as you came.

“Jesus.”, Steve growled through gritted teeth as he chased his own release.

Your lips mingled with Eddie’s as the other man leaned forward to massage your tits in his large palms before hearing him grunt above you as pumped his spend into your cunt. 

After carefully pulling out of you, both men trailed kisses to your neck, tenderly sucking and nibbling at your sweet spots as your body continued to tingle with need. 

“Eddie…please…”

“You don’t have to take me tonight, princess. Tonight is about you.”

“I want you.”

“Fuck me. Say that again.”

“I want you, Eddie. I need you.”

Once Steve was out of the way, the metalhead guided you around until your back was to his chest again with you both laying on your sides. On impulse, you lifted your leg and without missing a beat, he held it in place with his palm firmly gripping your thigh. 

Grinding his hips, his cock ran along your pussy lips as you moaned. 

“I’ll go slow too at first, ok?”

After you nod, he releases his hold on you only long enough to maneuver his length into your heat. 

“Oh my god.”, you whine as your head falls into the nook of his other arm. 

“I know. I know, baby. You’re—mmm—you’re doing so well. Tight little pussy is stretching out perfectly for me. Fuck.”

“Fuck me, Eddie. I-I can take it.”

Smiling, his fingers grabbed your jaw, turning you to face him so his forehead could lean on yours. 

“You can take it? Are you sure?” As if to test you, he slammed his waist hard into yours hitting your now overly sensitive and abused g-spot making you whimper against his lips. 

“Yeeees, baby, just like that.”

“You want it hard like that, sweetheart? Fuck, you are so fucking beautiful like this.”

While Steve did talk a bit while he was inside you, Eddie couldn’t seem to stop, whispering praises and compliments against your skin as he thrust into you. You definitely didn’t mind, wishing you could focus on anything but the pleasure to do the same. 

“Stay with me, pretty girl. I need to feel you cum again and squeeze my dick.”

“Eddie…I…feels…good…”

Grinning again, he tenderly kissed your lips. 

“Are you trying t-to praise me? Aw, poor baby can’t focus on words?” When you whined and nodded, his smiled grew. “Good. It’s ok, Y/N. Just focus on my cock right now. I want you to cum for me.”

Picking up his pace, you circle your arm behind you around his neck clinging to his hair till you felt your body tremble as the coil in your stomach snapped. 

“God damnit! Atta girl. Feels so fucking good.”

While your pussy quivered around him, he pumped into you till you felt him warm your insides as you milked him dry. 

After pulling out, the three of you laid on the floor of the shower on your back trying to catch your breathes. 

“I can’t tell if I’m steamy or sweaty.”

You smirked as they both laughed at your statement. 

“Either way, you smell good. Hang on.” Closing your eyes, you listened to Steve move around before jumping when you feel a washcloth between your legs. “Sorry! Sorry. I should have warned you. I’m just cleaning you.”

“I hope its ok it’s not a dirty napkin.”, Eddie sassed making you giggle as you reach over to lightly punch his arm. “You deserve better than him, Y/N.”

“You really ARE special. I hope you know that.”, Steve added. “And not just your body.”

You don’t say anything as they turn off the water and lead you back to the bedroom to dry you.

“Do you want your clothes or I can give you one of my shirts. According to Ryan, your stuff smells like smoke so I don’t see what difference a new shirt would make.”

“Oh. Um…I can just…wear my clothes…”, you pout as you hang your head. 

As your about to turn to take the garments from Eddie’s hands, the other boy grabs your wrist as he takes a seat on his bed. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“No, hey, no. Not nothing. What’s running through your mind?”

Unlike with your boyfriend, when your eyes shift between theirs you don’t see annoyance but empathy. They genuinely want to make sure you’re alright. 

“Do you want me to go?”

You question surprises them as they exchange a glance. 

“No. God no.”, the metalhead answers as he sits on the bed as well. “Y/N, we just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. If you want to go you’re more than welcome but we’d rather you stay.”

“We don’t want you to feel how you felt when you came in here.”, Steve adds. 

“I don’t feel like that. I wouldn’t feel like that if I left right now either.” They softly smile your way as they nod. “I don’t want to leave though. Not yet.”

“Aaaaare you hungry? We were going to order some food before Harrington’s ex-girlfriend flew in wreaking havoc.”

“Oh my god. Ok, we went on ONE date! One!”

“Can we get food from the restaurant you took her to. I really want to see if your restaurant choices do suck.”, you giggle as he rolls his eyes. 

“I hate you both.”, Steve teases as he gets up and heads for the phone.

Eddie helps you into one of his shirts and his friend’s shorts he found nearby. 

“Comfy? Good. See, princess, you’re adventurous.”, he winks as he grabs your palm in his before looking down at how they fit together. “Did you like it? Being with two people?”

With your free hand, you tilt his chin and kiss his lips. 

“I liked being with you two.”

Steddie Asks

[abibliophobiaa]

talking in your sleep

- eddie munson x afab!reader; 80s summer camp slasher au.

There are rumors that Hawkins is cursed. That there’s a gateway to hell in the town’s epicenter—paved by the blood of innocents. That there’s a whole world roaming beneath, teeming with monsters who have gaping maws full of endless rows of teeth that walk on twos and fours, screeching bats, and swirling shadow beasts.

But they’re rumors all the same. Hushes in hallways, within the four walls of homes, by conspiracy theorists trying to strike up their next controversial story. Stories told around campfires to wide eyed children, fear struck grave and true behind their gazes, or by those wishing to warn others to stay away, to reconsider coming—to turn back while they still have time.

Those same rumors fueled by the terrible murder of the Creel family, a haunting story of a girl who disappeared and was never found again, the impossibility of the zombie boy who was gone from this world one day and alive the next, the devastating fire that burned down the Starcourt Mall and took the lives of many.

Tragedies. All of them. Twisted to fit a narrative. Because Hawkins is safe. Inconspicuous. Boring. Nothing strange happens there.

Nothing, that is, until the summer of 1986.

…Welcome to Camp Firefly.

🏕️🛶

warnings: obviously dark in tone, so please understand that before entering (although chapter one is light and fluffy); thriller vibes; character death; violence; gore; blood; depictions of murder, though limited in description — i would say on par with what we see in the actual show; possession; alcohol and recreational marijuana use; horror tropes galore; pov changes; smut; additional tags to be added; 18+ minors dni.

additionally—while this is technically an au, the upside down does exist here. the original core st gang has experienced the events of season 1-3, but in a different capacity that will become clear through the narrative. also a loose loose loose adaptation of s4 with this slasher flair.

🏕️🛶

playlist || ao3 || a sketch by my dear friend

🏕️🛶

Chapter List:

one: burnin’ for you

two: obsession (tba)

three: running up that hill (tba)

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

🍒Welcome to My Pad!🍒

Hi there! I'm Cherry or Cherri! I'm a female artist from Utah who loves ninja turtles, vampires, 80s glam, and cheesy early 2000 crime shows!

My pronouns are She/Her or They/Them! I'm Bi-curious heterosexual!

I'm a fellow selship artist/writer who's mostly known in the TMNT Fandom and Lost Boys Fandom for my Tamsin and Chrysta! But I'm into more than just these shows. You can also find me scrolling around in...

The Tolkien universe, Fablehaven, 80s Horror slashers, indie horror games, Lackadaisy, Psych, Office, Eddsworld, Demon Slayer, Marvel, Spider-verse, Merlin, Invader Zim, Narnia, Animaniacs, and MANY more!

You can also see a few of my OCs and Other self Inserts as well here!

-Nancy Sullivan

-Gwendolyn

-Kana Rengoku [OC wip]

-Taiko Ayashi [OC wip]

-Amai Roberts [OC wip]

- Pam Suthers [Self insert wip]

-Evelyn Rose [Self insert wip]

-Parker Peterson [Self insert wip]

-Nimzy [OC wip]

-Moonshire [OC wip]

🍒🩷About Me🩷🍒

My hobbies include baking, jewelry making, embroidery, drawing, writing, and singing! I enjoy very homey and crafty activities, especially things to do while relishing in my love for traveling and camping!

I'm usually comfortable with sharing F/Os, but feel free to talk to me if so! Sometimes, it depends on certain or specific F/Os!

I love meeting people, so feel free to talk to me! My inbox or messages are always open as long as you can be polite and respectful. Everyone is welcome, and my page is a safe place! I will not tolerate Proship, pedo, tcest/incest, racism, homophobia. Please DNI and or block me before I block you.

My blog is meant for ages 16+!

✍️Sideblogs✍️

@sentimentalkeyboard [original characters and writing]

@hypocriticalspicewrites [NSFW blog. 18+ ONLY please!]

🛼RP blogs🛼

@chrissiepop

@miss-nancy-sullivan

@leather-studded-emerson

@babe-of-your-nightmares

@shy-2-bite

@twisted-sisterz-number1

@daddys-precious-little-monster

@dead-n-hopeless

🩷✨️TAGS✨️🩷

🍒daily dose of cherry🍒 [all my art and writing will be found under this tag!]

🍒cherrys spice cabinet🔥 [spicy/NSFW art and writing tag]

fruitbats🦇🍒 [Lost Boys selship tag]

🎀CobraBaby🎀 [stand by me selfship tag]

🦇🤍White Wedding AU🤍🦇 [The Lost Boys AU tag]

🍊💜 and tamsitello [ROTTMNT/TMNT selship tag]

the last hope au [for my ROTTMNT AU]

🩵blueflames❤️‍🔥 [demon slayer oc ship

💫💙starfire💚🔥 [demon slayer oc ship]

💙❤️tyrant-punk🩷🧡 [spiderverse selfship]

💚🐈‍⬛️kittypaws🐈🩵 [lackadaisy selfship]

❌️kordy🧡 [eddsworld selfship]

CITIZENS OF THE CHERRY CONATION STATION NATION YOU HAVE A NEW DECREE AND RULE: Any posts of my silly KIEFER SUTHERLAND or ALEX WINTER you are OBLIGATED to tag me 🫵 IF YOU DO NOT FOLLOW THE RULES YOU ARENT ALLOWED TO THE SLEEPOVER and you CAN'T watch LOST BOYS or BILL AND TED with US

[tropical-lycan]

The Foxhole Camp (All for the Game slasher movie AU)

BIG UPDATE : Some concepts art are out you can find them on my Tumblr account! ALSO CHAPTER 1 IS OUT

AND WE GOT AN OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

WARNING -> Spoilers for All for the Game trilogy and dark themes (horror)

I GOT SO INSPIRED BY THIS FANART BY @kururusti, the horror atmosphere coming from that fanart gave me literal chills, I love it.

I just had a crazy idea : what if AFTG wasn't about sports and mafia, but was a 1980s/90s slasher horror movie?

I thought of this because when I was younger I went to a French Summer Camp called "La Renardière" (literally meaning something close to "The Foxhole") and also because I'm a big fan of classic horror movies taking place in summer camps, such as Friday the 13th and Sleepaway Camp.

So, my plot idea is that in this universe, all of the Foxes are not sports player, but summer camp councelors, and they have to take care of kids. And Neil's dad is a slasher coming after them (let's keep his nickname "The Butcher", it's perfect for a slasher).

My plot idea is that Neil is the son of a murderous man (who is not a mafia boss in this version, he's just some crazy dude with an axe) and he ran away with his mother because the Butcher tried to kill them (think of movies like The Shining). They're still on the run because the Butcher really wants to finish the job (not sure why tho I have to think more about it). Like in the original story, Neil's mother gets killed and he is still chased by Nathan. One day the Butcher attacks him in the forest and leaves him to die (well I guess Nathan thought he had killed Neil or something like that, but he was just badly injured and survived). The councelors of the Foxhole Camp find him wounded in the forest while doing camp activities with the kids and decide to take care of him. Wymack who is the person running the camp offers him a job there after he recovers from his injuries (and I 100% imagine Andrew taking care of his wounds ❤️‍🩹). The Butcher will somehow discover that Neil isn't dead and he will try to murder all of them.

Now I'll do a quick summary of how I imagine each character's role with pictures from horror movies to illustrate the vibe (I might do my own concept arts later!!).

Note that the gifs I picked are NOT actor headcanons, it's mostly characters or concepts that inspired my ideas. I'll give the name of each movie/TV show if you're interested.

Also, I forgot to mention, but I imagine this AU taking place in the 80s, with a similar vibe/aesthetic to Stranger Things.

NEIL JOSTEN

(gif is Tommy Jarvis from Friday the 13th)

As I said, the Butcher was originally after Neil, meaning that in that AU he has the role of the Final Girl. Well...Final boy? Let's say final babygirl. He is the character who knows the killer personaly and has a deep childhood history with them (like Laurie Strode from the Halloween saga). Like in the original, he is very secretive and pretends to be someone else because he is afraid his father might find out that he is still alive. He becomes a camp councelor with the other Foxes and loves to play Exy with the kids (Exy still exists in that AU as part of the camp activities). I also imagine that he has no clue how to take care of kids and is still oblivious af. I mean...imagine that guy looking after children it's the funniest thing ever. I'm sure a lot of them ask him about how he got his scars.

At first he doesn't tell the Foxes what really happened to him and pretends he was attacked by a wild animal.

ANDREW & AARON MINYARD

(gif is JD from the Heathers movie, and yes...Heathers kinda is a horror movie???)

Okay maybe I was wrong when I said Neil taking care of kids would be the funniest thing...ANDREW DOING THAT IS EVEN FUNNIER. I kinda imagine him to be like a councelor helping Abby Winfield in the Infirmary (and yeah he steals meds and alcohol). He still has his dark and mysterious vibe (and I kinda imagine him dressing in a similar fashion to JD from Heathers, hence my gif choice). He would also be the guy suspected to be the killer (like Eddie Munson in Stranger Things 4), because he still has his mental health issue in that version. I also think it would be interesting to keep the backstory he has with Aaron and their mother, except they end up in a summer camp and not in an Exy team (it makes even more sense for people to think that he is the killer because of the rumors he killed his mom). Most of the kids find him terrifying, but i'm sure most of them see him as a rockstar or living urban legend. As in the books, he really doesn't give a fuck about his job. He will also be the one to discover Neil's secret, and I want a scene where he directly fights with the Butcher. I also imagine a cute romantic scene where Neil and him will go swimming in the lake at night (i'll probably make a fanart of this <3).

Aaron wouldn't change much compared to the books, I just think he would be really pissed when people accuse his brother of being the killer (while not being sure himself that he isn't). He would often leave the camp without telling people in order to see Kathy (who doesn't work there at all), leading people to believe at some point that he might be dead. I also want a scene where he pretends to be Andrew (who is chased by people who think he is the killer) in order to save him.

Drake, who knows that Andrew is working at a camp councelor, will try to trespass the camp at night in order to get to Andrew. And well...I guess Aaron will kill him as well and it will add more tension within the group (as if there was not enough murders happening there).

NICKY HEMMICK

(gif is Xavier from American Horror story season 9 : Camp Redwood)

Nicky would stay true to himself: proud to be gay and flirty with the male councelors, even though it must be harder for him since this AU takes place in the 80s. I imagine to be the funny guy of the bunch, throwing one-liners at the killer. I think that he would be more invested in the job than Andrew and Aaron.

ALLISON REYNOLDS + SETH GORDON

(I almost wanted to put a gif of Allison Reynolds from Breakfast Club as a joke but well...It's Chris from Carrie, I'd love to see Allison with that haircut)

She would be the stereotypical bimbo, but with more personality when you get to know her. I think Seth would be the first one to die and it would impact her character development and make her wanna take revenge on the Butcher. I imagine Seth to be like the stereotypical jock, still a jerk. This time he is killed by Nathan's axe and not because of Riko. I don't have much more ideas for them yet, but I love to imagine that Allison starts as a typical bitch and then she learns how to survive and becomes a badass character (like Emma Mountebank from the horror game The Quarry).

I think that Seth would be killed while the two of them are...Well...Doing... what camp councelor couples do in 80s horror movies... Allison somehow manages to escape the Butcher and to tell the others that Seth died.

RENEE WALKER

(gif is Robin Buckley from Stranger Things)

I don't have much ideas for Reenee yet but I'm open for suggestions if you guys have ideas. I think her story would stay similar to the original books as well. I just love to imagine that she tries to teach Andrew how to act more friendly with the kids, and making fun of him when as fails miserably to be a sociable human being (come on Andrew, the kids are freaked out by your crazy medicated smile). I also think that in their freetime they like to hang out and throw knives on the camp's archery targets. She is probably one of the most loved councelors.

DAN WILDS

(gif is Deena Johnson from Fear Street)

Dan is trying to do what's best for the kids. Her group would still be divided with the monsters on the other side because she is part of the ones who believe that Andrew might be the killer. She is sceptical when Neil tries to tell the Foxes that there is a murderer running around. Wymack puts her in charge when he has to leave the camp (not knowing that Kevin...well, you know their secret) and she takes that role very seriously, as the leader of the gang and "the rational one".

MATT BOYD

(gif is Chris Washington from Get Out)

I think that Matt would often try to play the role of the hero, fighting the Butcher many times to protect his friends. I don't have much ideas for him either but I'm open for suggestions!

KEVIN DAY + THE RAVENS

(gif is Kurt from Fear Street)

In this version I think that Kevin has something to do with the Butcher too. I'm not sure what, but I'd like to keep the idea that he knows Neil from his former life as well. Maybe he was another victim that survived, or one of his relatives was killed by the Butcher in front of his eyes. In this AU the Ravens are camp councelors from a rival Summer Camp (Evermore Camp). Kevin used to be part of them but he ran away because they have questionable methods when it comes to taking care of the kids (Riko put that fucking knife down, will ya?). Riko would be a psycho bully and a minor antagonist. He would also attack the Foxes and use the Butcher's murders as a cover-up.

Kevin and Riko take the rivalry between the Foxhole Camp and Evermore Camp very seriously. They often battle against each other in events such as Exy competitions and Capture the flag. The Foxhole Camp is considered to be a shitty and dangerous summer camp while Evermore Camp is for rich kids (in a similar vibe to the rivalry between Shadyside and Sunnyvale kids in Fear Street).

THE BUTCHER A.K NATHAN WESNINSKI

Our slasher!! As I said before he would be obsessed with the idea of killing Neil and the Foxes in the most gruesome way possible. The chemestry between the two will be very personal, like most killer vs final girl dynamic in slasher movies. I'm sure he will have some second winds... As for how he will look I don't know for sure? I like the idea that he is wearing an Exy helmet, in a similar fashion to Jason Voorheese's iconic hockey mask.

So yeah that's my idea for this AU. If you guys want to add ideas you can always contact me!! It'd be so cool to see what you think of it :D

I will do fanarts based on that AU if you're interested enough 🫵🫵🫵 I mean we need Neil and Andrew in summer camp staff uniforms...

[pennydoe]

PLEASE tell me more about the Saskatchewan slasher au, I desperately wanna draw some stuff for it, it looks so cool

OK SO BASICALLY it's in the 1980s cause i LOVE old 80 and 90s slashers, and The choir r more or less the schools newspaper/yearbook committee and stuff. Penny is the new girl, having recently moved to Uranium for the same reason in Legoland, y'know.. the weed smoking shit lmaooo but uh-

(this is all a wip btw i migjt change it cause i haven't really had time to myself the last few weeks)Basically Penny joins yearbook and the school paper to get to know some people, and she's a instant hit with them all, especially ocean cause ofc i gotta make it perfectdolls, but being in those two groups makes noel and especially ocean way to curious for their own good so they drag penny along to a abandoned house they've heard strange reports about and find smth in it (im still deciding if it's gonna be like a haunted book or some relic i honestly don't know) and it ends up in Penny being possessed by a demon/ghost/witch and essentially becoming Jane, but a extremely murderous version.

Noel and Ocean have to flee from Jane, or Doll-Face, and find the rest of 'choir' and they sorta have to figure out a way to save penny and also stop her from her murder spree, and first they gotta actually FIND HER and not let her kill THEM.

It's mostly Noel, Ocean, and Penny/Jane centered ofc cause the choir splits off into two groups to try to cover more ground, so Savannah (Ricky ofc, I just love the Savannah HC), Constance, and Mischa are all in their own group doing seperate research so they can cover more ground..

uhmmm i don't really like Noel's outfit but i Aammmm struggling on designing it a bit, But Jane does wear the same stuff as Penny ofc and i'm still designing the rest of the choir.. Maybe i'll write a fic of if? Idk man.. i'm to stressed lately to really write

here's some unfinished doodles from when i was first coming up with the idea, i really like the post of Jane in the second one so i migjt finish that ..

I wanna finish the designs for the others tomorrow but the issue is i have like... 6 school projects to finish and it's getting so bad to the point i tnink im developing marie antoinette syndrome.. it's either that or i'm paranoid lmao

[herdelreydear]

I was all over her

pt 1

warnings: college!au, mean!ellie, owenxabby, elliexreader, (a bit abbyxreader bc of readers past, smoking, drugs, alcohol, some angst, nsfw in this or the next parts

summary: Dina drags Ellie to a camp where they can work at for three weeks, the money is good and they get a little vecation from their college life. It’s annoying but it gets more interesting when Ellie gets to know the other girl that is joining as a camp leader.

notes: i’m really excited for this series, it’s gonna be inspired by the 80s slasher summer camp vibe! They’re not in the 80s anymore but their town is so stubborn, that they still got all the old equipments so it kind of feels like it anyways. I’m also going to switch from different perspectives to get a better view from everyone’s thoughts when things get spicy :P

reposting, liking or even commenting would be so so appreciated <3

{ not proofread }

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

„Ugh“ Ellie grunted shoving her stuff in her backpack that was already falling apart and had some holes here and there. It didn’t bother her as long as she didn’t loose anything of her supplies.

„If the money isn’t worth it i’m going.“ Dina, laying on her bed watching her- „Of course Ells as if you’re not living off of instant noodles and my stuff the last few weeks“ she grinned and rolled onto her stomach.

„The kids are gonna be annoying but remember how we were that age?“ she let out a quite laugh. „Were the ones making the rules now, so how bad can it be?“

„Oh fuck you“ Ellie sighed and finally got her backpack to zip up. „Kids that age are little shitheads“ she stood up and let herself fall on the bed next to Dina. „Well yeah, but at least they’re not that bad, I mean they wont be older than 16 y‘know?“

„Well with 16 I started selling“ Ellie grinned. „But if I catch one of them doing anything like that imma beat their ass“ she looked at her phone to check the time. „Well, or their mom will“

Dina flipped a finger against Ellies forehead „Ouch“- „You’re the one that has to behave“ Dina glanced a provocative smile at her. „No girls your age except for me and Abby, and a bunch of kids- I think you can handle that“

„I don’t like that Abby and Owen are the ones giving the orders to us, she‘s okay but Owen is annoying as fuck“ Dina nodded to agree with her. Abby and Owen were a bit older then them, and already did the camp counseling the year before.

„Well anyways we gotta go“ Dina pushed Ellie of the bed otherwise to leave would’ve took forever. They got outside and walked to Ellies Pick-Up truck. The others would drive in a school bus Owen got the permission to drive with. They would all meet at the camp.

This year it was so full, Owen and Abby decided to let all the kids sleep in the little cabins and the leaders would have to sleep outside. Because of Ellie having the Pick-Up they already loaded all their tents on it, wondering why there were two from Abby and Owen, thinking they’d sleep together anyways.

The Trip was nice though, Ellie liked driving and Dina liked being Ellies Dj even though Ellie didn’t approve to all the songs Dina was blasting on full volume.

After arriving Ellie looked unmotivated again. „First and last day are always the most stressful ones, so don’t give up today okay Ells?“ Closing the car door Dina tried to get Ellies confirmation. „Yeah sure“ she muffled and helped Dina with the tents and their backpacks.

Already settled in, they could hear the voices of kids and teens laughing in their little cabins. Searching for Abby and Owen they ran into you.

You just had moved to the place you were now also going to college to. Only about three months ago, but you didn’t recognize the two women approaching you. They don’t look 16 anymore that’s for sure, so they must be from college too, also taking the opportunity to get that money.

Of course you needed that money desperately, normal for a college student. Also, extra money didn’t hurt, and you needed to get away from.. well actually you wanted to get away from Abby, but you already applied to the job before knowing it was organized by Abby- and Owen, her boyfriend.. At least the two other girls are joining too, so you’re not alone with them.

„hey! you’re from college too?“ Dina came up to greet you with a welcoming quick hug, surprised you smiled lightly and nodded. „Uh, yeah I am“ you looked over to the other girl, hands in her pockets and not looking like she was going to great you like the other one. „I’m y/n“ you introduced yourself to the two. „Dina“ -she seemed like a person you’ll get along with, but the other one- „Ellie“ she said shortly, seemed not that pleased by the whole situation. Well, maybe she was just here for the money, and you’d understand that. For you, being outside was calming, and working or more like watching the kids a bit was totally fine with you. Growing up with siblings you knew how to handle annoying teens.

„Hey hey“ Owen stepped out of one of the cabins, Abby on his hand, she looked a bit annoyed but smiled when she saw the small group of yours. „Finally, all the kids are already unpacking their stuff and ready for some food“ she smiled and they stepped closer to greet everyone. „So for the basics: we have plans hung out in the kitchen on wich we are divded into wash off and cooking shifts.“ Abby walked to one of the cabins, the only one that was a bit bigger, everyone followed.

Stepping in she pointed to a list that was hung up against a board. „I think it’s okay that we do the dishes, the kids are here to relax. Owen and I are going to do most of the activities with them, but most of the kids are already to old for that and just want to be outside on the lake or on the fields. You guys just watch out that no ones going missing and when we need you, you’ll help us out.“

Her voice was calm and you couldn’t avoid feeling a big clump in your throat.

Just weeks ago she ended it with you, or kind of did. You apparently just were a little flink she had while being broken up with Owen. It still hurted though. She was the first woman you slept with, but even more- she was the one that gave you the security you were a lesbian. At the beginning she was there for you while being the new student, helping you out a lot with how everything worked you both couldn’t deny the tension that got in between you from the first day you’d met. At that point you didn’t knew about the breakup with Owen, you were fully convinced she was a lesbian anyways. You asked her out on sweet little coffee dates and she took you to her basketball practice ones in a while. It felt like you two had known each other for much longer than just a few months. You started to crush on her besides being sexually attracted to her. But it stayed at being fuck buddies, till you mentioned your feelings and she seemed to be on the same side. All fine, till one night- that stupid fucking frat party. You were waiting for her all night, after not showing up you asked around if anybody saw her. Some did, but they also lost sight of her. Already a bit drunk you made your way through the rooms till you accidentally walked in on two people, needing a sec to realize who was having sex right there.

That night didn’t end well. You were heartbroken (you knew it seemed a bit too fast but it still hurted- and it was the way she did not tell you about him- and didn’t tell you she was actually just getting her sexual frustration eased by sleeping with you) You felt used and had cut her off.

Now, you two had to get along somehow. And it was fine, it wasn’t that deep you tried to tell yourself. Move on, gosh you’re embarrassing yourself . You’d tell yourself.

Everyone seemed fine with the list, and you turned to Dina and Ellie. „So, let’s build up our tents?“ you wanted to get away from her. They agreed. You looked up to Abby while walking past her, she gave you a little smile. You noticed her apologizing look, it made you sick.

„Oh I forgot to tell you, Jesse‘s coming too“ Dina turned her head to Ellie while putting together the tent. „How did you forget that“ Ellie scrunched her eyebrows together. Sweet. You held on to the other side of the tent, not doing much because you didn’t knew anything ok how to put up those. „Well, Ells he’s not here so obviously I forgot him. He’s always late!“ she rolled her eyes. „Jesse‘s my Ex“ she turned around to tell you without being asked, but you were to shy to ask anyways, so you appreciated her leading the conversation. „So now we’re two“ you tried to smile. „Wait what? You were dating Jesse??“ You shaked your head hardly. „Noo I don’t even know him don’t worry“ before she could ask about Abby, you quickly finished building up the tent and changed the subject. When all tents were up, Jesse arrived. Extroverted like Dina he started blabbering all kinds of stuff on to you, knowing he just tried to made you feel less left out, you tried to stay as focused as possible and answered to all his questions.

„So now, who’s gonna sleep where?“

All of you stood infront of the three little tents. Abby and Owen were already in the kitchen, making some dough for bread on sticks, but it was obvious they’d sleep together. „I don’t care, you guys can decide“ You smiled and you noticed Ellie glancing over to you. She was really quite since they arrived but it was kind of.. pleasant.

„You wanna sleep with me?“ She said, and you shrugged. „Sure“ giving her a smile that she gave you back. Dina raised a brow, knowing Ellie, she took every opportunity to get girls actually in bed with her. Poor you Dina thought. But Dina was also more than fine with sharing a tent with Jesse. Yes, they broke up, but they still were like besties.

Following Ellie you climbed into your tent, finding yourself unexpectedly really close to her. Ellie noticed the rosy color on your cheeks. „So.. on wich side do you want to sleep?“ you asked, a bit uncomfortable. Before saying anything Ellie just stretched herself and layed down on her side. „is that fine?“ she reassured and you nodded. While humming you started to unpack your stuff. Ellie watched you while rolling herself another one up. You didn’t mind, and didn’t tell her to stop when she lightened it in your little tent, you just opened the entrance and layed down next to her.

„So how come I’ve never seen you at college?“ She looked to the side and held the joint infront of you, as you took it you thought about how you could answer it as short as possible.

„I just came here a few months ago, wasn’t really with anybody that’s probably why“ you shrugged „I like to be on my own“ you exhaled and gave it back to her. She grinned. „Well that’s definitely understandable, but what about frat parties? They can be fun too, never been to one?“ she layed her head on her arm that was behind her and watched the smoke fill the air.

„Well I was“ you caughed, you weren’t used to smoking weed, and the tent was full of smoke. Ellie laughed and opened the outer layer of the tent a bit wider. „Let’s go“ she tilted her head to the exit, noticing you’re not taking the full air that well and you climbed out of it. It already got dark and you decided to collect some wood for the campfire. You didn’t notice how a constant smile was on your lips, and how the stiffness from before started to loosen up. But Ellie noticed and enjoyed your quite being.

After being done collecting some sticks and branches, Ellie lit up the campfire and Jesse and Dina gathered the kids around it. Abby and Owen brought the food and the atmosphere started to get more calm and chatty. You enjoyed it more than you thought and then and there your eyes met with Ellies.

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

I know that’s the second series I started, I think I’ll just write them both at the same time. I hope you like it, I already have the next parts planned x3

I’m also making a playlist inspired by the 80s but also the vibe for this series~

[quicksilverdaisyday]

i don’t care that halloween’s over. okay. you will look at me and @mortiifying’s corny ass 80s slasher au.

more designs lol:

mitch!! he’s the killer. yes his mask is vault boy

daisybell is the final girl! her costume is madonna ofc. also she and mitch have something weird going on

arcade is dr. frankenstein bc he’s a weird nerd. and christine and veronica are walter white and jesse pinkman bc in this universe brba is a low budget 80s thriller movie. also it’d be funny.

i haven’t drawn benny and swank yet but they’re roger and jessica rabbit. benny is the one in the dress

there’s a bunch of ocs included too but i haven’t drawn most of them lol!

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

Epic: 11 Oct. Suptober

Though Sam had no love for Halloween, he too felt a modicum of despair for the display before them.

deancas not-hiding-a-developing-relationship-as-well-as-they-think-they-are au #pray4sam

A giant banner over the store's entrance read "Epic Holiday Extravaganza" and upon spotting it, Sam groaned in his soul.

"Awesome," Dean said, grin wacky and his chest puffed out like an inflatable vampire's. 

(They'd just driven through a neighborhood heavily decorated with towering monsters and fake cobwebs, Dean slapping the steering wheel out of sheer enthusiasm the whole time.)

Upon entering the store lobby, however, Dean's balloon instantly popped.

Though Sam had no love for Halloween, he too felt a modicum of despair for the display before them.

"Where are the ghosts?" Dean demanded. (Never mind that real ghosts were usually the fucking worst.) "The jack o'lanterns? The Oogie Boogies and tombstones? No spiders? No bats? Not even a cornucopia or stack of plain old pumpkins?"

Sam tried to put out his arm in a casual sort of way, to keep his brother from plowing headfirst into the copse of festooned Christmas trees, reindeer and sleigh, red and green gnomes, and a large translucent angel with lacy wings that flapped, slowly, like a butterfly's. Everything on sale, 40% off, earn ten dollars Krazy Kash for fifty dollars spent.

"It's October eleventh," Dean all but yelled.

"All right, chill," Sam hissed under his breath.

"The assistant store manager has time to meet with us now," Cas said. Having arrived first, he'd strolled up an aisle of boxed ornaments, wrapping paper, wreaths, and snowmen figurines without any discernible distress. 

Cas did give the fake angel a dirty look; Sam snorted, mostly to himself.

"Finally," Dean muttered, "at least we can see a real corpse for a change." He stopped dead in his tracks. "You know what I mean."

Cas tipped his head. "I don't, actually."

Dean rolled his eyes and nudged Cas back down the aisle.

-

"I'm surprised the Christmas stuff bugged you so much," Sam said conversationally. He finished drinking his milkshake and waited for Dean to swallow a wad of french fries.

Dean wiped his hands on a paper napkin, crumpled the burger wrapper into a ball, and pitched it neatly into the world's smallest trash can set beneath the motel television stand. "I like Christmas," Dean said. "Hell, I love Christmas sometimes. Not in freakin' autumn. The leaves haven't even fallen off the trees yet. Halloween's too good to waste this early, man. It's disrespectful."

A ghoul digging up a semi-retired warehouse worker, eating half his limbs, and leaving the rest in the mattress section of a mid priced department store just to annoy the store manager also seemed disrespectful to Sam, but Dean didn't need him chiming in about that.

"You and Cas picked out your costumes yet?" Sam asked, toeing off his boots.

Dean went stock still. Shifty around the eyes. Maybe a little spooked.

Cas exited the bathroom just then. He'd changed into his on the road pajamas, i.e. he'd taken off his trench coat and his suit coat, and left his shoes by the door (having already washed off the gooey ghoul blood, for which Sam was grateful). "Has something happened?" he asked Dean.

"No," Dean said, sullen as a teenager.

"Are we going to watch a movie?" Cas arranged himself against the headboard of one of the two beds.

Good mood restored, Dean bounced up to grab the remote. "Local access channel's showing Bludgeon Brothel in fifteen minutes. Classic '80s slasher. Made Lola Sidebottom a household name for a while there." He crashed onto the mattress next to Cas and looked happier than a witch with a new broomstick.

Well, at least Sam knew which bed was his for the night: the other one.

-

(On the 31st day of the month, he pretended to be surprised when both Dean and Cas walked out of Dean's bedroom dressed like skeleton pirates.)

[spaceoutcazt]

📌 About Me:

🇲🇽 [They/them preference]

🐙 [LVL 16/Nonbinary + Pan oriented AroAce]

🍋 More in my carrd.co 🍋

My name is Krester and i'm a hobbyist artist. I like to draw fanart of my favorite shows/games and OCs! Im a big fan of horror/pseudo-snuff films, fictional gore and non-human creatures ( ^3°)٭

Tag guide:

Art tag: #Outer Space Clowntist ✏️

Rambling tag: #Clownblings 🪐

Reblog tag: #SpaceReblogzz

Mailbox tag: #Clownswers 📬

My OCs tag: #SpaceOutcazOC

My sona tag: #OutcazSONA 🪱

Selfship tag: #SELFSHIP 💌

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⚠️ TW/CW:

🫐 I usually use bright colors on my drawings and i might draw gore from time to time. [eyestrain/bl00d/blades/flashing tw]

🫐I (rarely) reblog//draw suggestive stuff, nothing too explicit but still.

🫐 About ships! I draw ship art very rarely, i mostly do it when requested and i have to let you know that im...very open with ships, i think thats the word? I dont like them but i dont hate them either (except proships, fuck proships) so you might see A LOT of different ships from different fandoms, as a warning: eh you might see ships you dont like (example: candybats/ratmeat/deadmeat).

🫐 In some of my drawings (mostly referring to my spooky month au, miserable month) i talk about delicate themes such as su**ide, alcoholism, etc. Please keep this in mind before interacting, if you're not comfortable with that stuff at all i recommend you to look for another blog (or at least ignore the whole miserable month au, by far i think that's the only disturbing thing you'll find in my posts).

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📌 Here are some of the fandoms i'm in:

(i often update this)

Spooky Month.

Adventure Time (Finn ♡).

Superjail.

Gravity Falls.

Eddsworld.

OFF (by Mortis Ghost).

Therapy with Dr Albert Krueger // Vincent the Secret of Myers.

Five Night's At Freddy's (the lore confuses me though-).

Madness Combat.

The Amazing World of Gumball.

Popee the Performer.

Salad Fingers.

ENA.

Analog horror. Mostly; Mandela Catalogue, Local 58, The Walten Files, etc.

Don't Hug Me I'm Scared.

Invader Zim and JTHM.

Creepypastas.

Unicorn wars.

Not sure if this counts as a fandom but i love disturbing media, urban legends, cryptids, anything related to paranormal, liminal spaces and more stuff like that.

School for Little Vampires (omg i love vampires).

Slashers, 80s horror movies, etc (i have a thing for killer dolls).

Again, this probably doesn't count as a fandom but I LOVE CLOWNS :o)

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📌 Requesting Rules:

Ok, i was not going to make this section but some of you made me REALLY uncomfy >:/

🌼 First of all (and this one should be obvious) i WILL NOT TAKE NSFW REQUESTS. I'm a minor and i'm not comfortable with drawing that type of stuff.

🌼 DO NOT REQUEST PRO/COMSHIPS. If you ask me to draw something like "minor x adult" i will not only ignore your request, i will block you. 💥

🌼 BE PATIENT WITH ME. Just cuz the ask box is open it doesn't mean requests are open too, i don't mind if you request something but keep in mind that i won't do your request immediately if i'm not feeling up to it X(

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📌 Before sharing my art:

🧃 Reposts are okay! (give credit pls) You can use my drawings as your pfp as long as you credit me!

(This also applies for edits, videos, etc)

🍧 About my OC's: I'm okay with fanart and people shipping their OC with mine or a canon character, but please avoid making NSFW content with them, and with NSFW i mean sex lmao.

EXTRA!! Here's my avatar ref sheet in case yall wanna draw it X)!

[anarchy-and-piglins]

pls, I am dying to know if u have any: Techno in a horror game ideas

I beg of thee /lh

-Zanon

Literal horror games I have made Techno-centric AUs out of in the past include Outlast, Until Dawn and Alan Wake. Overall though I think Techno would make an excellent Final Girl. Like, camp counselor Techno in an 80s slasher setting perhaps?

[daradiostarzz]

give us a whole rundown of ur 80s AU and what happens in it plz!!!! :D (unless u've already done this before!)

- @ravenbrookz

Well it's based on the first two books as well as on the 80s Slasher/Giallo genre! It's very YA with heavy:

(Here's the CW I have for the fanfic for book 1)

And I should mention actually Ted in the books (like canon books) is pretty emotionally abusive (And physically but it's kept as something suggested rather than explicit) to Aaron so heads up when reading it.

So like a good 80s slasher the MC is a teenager and, yes Nick and the rest of the kid characters in the book (Sadly characters like Ivan, Delroy and Finch never made an appearance in book so I won't even try and put them into the AU as it's kinda far deep) are all teens with Ted being more like a Patrick Bateman like character rather than an unstoppable machine like in HNAS

here are the first wave of characters I have (With Trinity, Enzo & Maritza onw) I also have a summary of book one so uh nehy:

In June 1986, Nicky Roth, a city-dwelling New Yorker, has his life turned upside down as he moves to the small town of Raven Brooks, Pennsylvania. There, he forms an unexpected bond with a rebellious girl across the street, Erin Peterson.

However, everything comes to an abrupt halt when he meets Erin's father, a former theme park manager beloved by the town. Despite their hospitality, snippets of conversation from locals and delving into the history unleash a crescendo of a horrific past from an enigma that nags at him — a crescendo of horrific past that Erin seems to brush off and let stay buried.

Yet, Nick's persistent keeps going thus testing the newfound friendship, leaving him to question if Erin is protecting something…

or someone…

So yeah that's kinda the gist of the AU both actually are very book based actually (lol) with also some changes like setting it in Pennsylvania instead of Missouri and well more book accurate thus I won't be using these designs:

(cause... In the books... Yeah it was pretty badd)

Sorry if this is super lengthy this is also meant for new fans whom don't know anything about the books so hope u don't mind!! <:)

✮Radio✮

[abibliophobiaa]

talking in your sleep

chapter one - burnin’ for you

- eddie munson x afab!reader; 80s summer camp slasher au.

masterlist

🏕️🛶

warnings: (20k words) overall this fic will be dark in tone, though this chapter is mostly light and fluffy; r has a father for the sake of a future conflict, though they are not named; thriller; possession; alcohol and recreational marijuana use; allusions to sex; oral (f receiving); allusion to oral (m receiving); 18+, minors dni.

additionally— while this is technically an au, the upside down does exist here. the original core st crew has experienced the events of seasons 1-3, but in a different capacity that will become clear through the narrative. also a loose loose loose adaption of s4 with a slasher flair

🏕️🛶

There are rumors that Hawkins is cursed. 

That there’s a gateway to hell in the town’s epicenter—paved by the blood of innocents. 

That there’s a whole world roaming beneath, teeming with monsters who have gaping maws full of endless rows of teeth that walk on twos and fours, screeching bats, and swirling shadow beasts. 

But they’re rumors all the same. 

Hushes in hallways, within the four walls of homes, by conspiracy theorists trying to strike up their next controversial story. 

Stories told around campfires to wide eyed children, fear struck grave and true behind their gazes, or by those wishing to warn others to stay away, to reconsider coming—to turn back while they still have time. 

Those same rumors fueled by the terrible murder of the Creel family, a haunting story of a girl who disappeared and was never found again, the impossibility of the zombie boy who was gone from this world one day and alive the next, the devastating fire that burned down the Starcourt Mall and took the lives of many. 

Tragedies. All of them. Twisted to fit a narrative. Because Hawkins is safe. Inconspicuous. Boring. 

Nothing strange happens there. 

Nothing, that is, until the summer of 1986. 

 ——

 “Hello campers,” you call out through the megaphone. “Welcome to Camp Firefly for the summer season of 1986. Dustin—please stop pulling on Max’s hair. Max, don’t kick Mike in the shins! Oh, Juliet, honey, please don’t eat the gl—”

The megaphone is snatched from your fingers by none other than Steve Harrington. All long limbs and debonair stature. Dark hair gleams in the sunlight, broad shoulders shifting as he raises the megaphone to his lips and shouts, “Okay, listen up shitheads. Unpacking starts now. In one hour, we’ll be meeting in the mess hall for our welcome dinner. Be there or be square.”

You open your mouth to argue, to yell at him for breaking up your speech, but a pair of arms winds around your waist. Eddie’s form thumps into yours, his tall and gangly body having just rushed out of his parked van to hastily barrel into you. Four weeks; you’d gone four weeks without seeing him, and it had felt like years. Sighing, you lean into his embrace. Steve shakes his head beside the both of you, continuing on with the welcoming speech for the rest of the campers who are paying attention. 

You, on the other hand, find yourself preoccupied with the boy insistent upon sliding his palms into the back pockets of your shorts, pulling you flush against him until your noses brush.

A giggle rises from your throat, your face warming. “Eddie,” you gasp out when a hand squeezes on your flesh. There’s a thwack of your hand against his shoulders, arms loosely around his neck, though there’s no true anger to be found there. Only the prickling nervous anticipation over being seen. You drop down into a hushed whisper, “Not in front of the kids!”

“I’ll have you know, my campers know cooties are real. I’d like to think I’m a great teacher.” His forehead presses insistently into yours, breath warm against your bottom lip. He’s so close now you can smell the mint on his tongue, masking the hint of the cigarette he likely smoked minutes ago beneath. “But I myself happen to be up to date on my cootie shots…”

Another thwack to his abdomen this time, but all it does is have him closing the space between you, ignoring the overly exaggerated gagging sounds of his friend Steve to your left. It’s a long, drawn out press of your lips. Weeks of yearning and wishes, pent up desire, pouring out into the spaces between you. A hum spills from you, unwarranted and yet welcomed by Eddie’s firmer embrace. 

Those arms around you that drag you close pull you in tighter, insistent on keeping you near. A part of you wants to remain there. Forever, if he would allow it. But you have too much to do. Between welcoming the returning campers, assisting new campers, and making sure all the counselors are in position for their job duties, your schedule is packed. 

Full to the brim in your father’s absence. 

“As much as I would absolutely love to spend the afternoon doing this, I need to get to work,” you say, sighing breathlessly as your boyfriend separates from you. His nose nudges your cheek, palms brushing along the curve of your jaw. You kiss him once more, grinning. Lowering your voice so no one else can hear, you add, “Meet me in my cabin in fifteen minutes.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a final, lingering kiss to your lips, bowing at the waist. He backs away slowly, finger dragging a slow ‘x’ across his heart. You practically glow with it, heart thundering away behind your ribcage.  

Steve wrinkles his nose beside you and you tip your head to the sky, ignoring him. Eddie’s form is already retreating to your cabin, broad back swathed in a dark tee shifting as he moves throughout the gaggle of children rushing around him like the parting of the sea. 

All around you children giggle. Cars and buses alike weave in and out of the makeshift gravel parking lot. Parents press kisses to their babies' brows and wish their little ones a wonderful month of excitement to come. Wistful gazes meet yours in passing. Friends reunite after months without, hands curling around hands, skipping back to their prospective bunk beds. Girls with friendship bracelets bleached by the sun and time, and boys with their fake swords made of sticks they retrieved in the woods rush along, sights set on their unknown destinations. Your nostrils are filled with the smell of sunblock and the food cooking in the mess hall, the lingering remnants of your boyfriend’s cheap cologne, and the perfume you’d dabbed onto your pulse points earlier that morning for the curly headed metalhead. 

You smile to yourself, letting the summer sun warm your cheeks, and think, It’s going to be a good summer.

 ——

 A fan blows in the distance, but it does little to lower the heat in the room. Does little to chill your sweat slick skin, shirt long pushed high on your chest, moisture pooling in the hollow of your throat, along the dip between your breasts. Your thighs lay splayed out around a narrow pair of hips resting against where you crave him most, fingers dragging lines along the slope of his stomach, the trail of hair leading to the part of him seeking your attention, straining through the sun-faded pair of green shorts adorning his legs, lightened from years of use. 

“Missed you,” Eddie drawls, lips gliding along the soft of your stomach.

Shivers ripple in their wake, toes curling within the tube socks around your calves, lined with that glaring green stripe that mirrors the green accents on your white Camp Firefly shirt. You rip your hand from his abdomen and curl your fingers around his bicep, gasping into open air as he tugs the cup of your bra down and his tongue lathes over a sensitive nipple.

Somewhere against your thigh you can feel him hot and hard and ready—eager and insistent. The wooden beams of the cabin above you blur around the edges as fingers dip down into the waistband of your shorts, teasing at the slickness he finds there. 

“E-Ed,” you rasp, clutching tighter, fingernails digging crescents into his skin at the softest prodding of his middle finger against your center. “Mmm—more.”

That finger dips into the well of slick pooling. Swirls around and around until you’re writhing beneath him, chest rising and falling against his as he leans over to hover above your form, watching the utter bliss sliding over your features. 

“Sweetheart,” he says lowly, voice seemingly dropping an octave. His mouth roams over the curve of your hip bone, nipping at delicate flesh until your stomach clenches and you yelp. “Pretty sure you’re not in uniform.”

He’s right. You’re meant to be wearing the standard white shirt with green lettering or ‘Camp Firefly’ across the front and that silly pair of matching green shorts. But you hadn’t had a chance to change your shorts before the kids started pouring in—before Eddie managed to get you alone. 

He tuts, and with his other hand, Eddie slowly works the button on your jean shorts free, the zipper following suit. The denim brushes along your thighs as he lowers them down your legs, tossing them into the far corner of the room, toying with lace, wet with your want. 

“New?” he murmurs, dipping his middle finger inside you, dragging it in a slow circle that has you clutching at the bed sheets beneath you. At your nod, he grins. “Is this all for me, sweetheart? Should go away on tour more often.”

Eddie’s careful as always as he slides down further toward the foot of the bed, shorts and shirt rumpling. A shudder of breath passes from you as he hikes both your thighs over his shoulders, the balls of your feet resting against the span of his back, as those fingers of his palm at the dough of your thigh. Warm breath skitters across your bare skin, replaced by his mouth a moment later. Warm presses that start at your ankle, dragging up up and up until you’re whimpering, pleading, begging for him without coherent words. Words fail you when he’s like this, intent and amorous, wanting nothing more than to draw out your pleasure, bring you to a peak, have you gasping beneath him in your release, holding you close as you float back to earth with him. 

“Please don’t. Missed you too much,” you nearly beg, eyes rolling back into your skull as he tugs the flimsy fabric aside, nearly ripping it in his haste, and parts you with his tongue. Every other word, every statement, the thoughts you might have shared—they all flutter away into the wind, replaced only by this mouth, these fingers, and this man. “Missed you too much. Oh gosh, just like that, please don’t stop Eddie—”

His answer is the curling of his fingers within you. The blinding white light that dances behind your closed eyes as he licks and teases at your center, coaxing you further along that invisible peak. It burns within your gut, a spark fanned into flame, holding bright into a steady inferno, ready to burst behind your eyelids when a knock sounds at the door, shaking you both from your fantastical reverie. 

Head rolling back into your pillow with a groan, you cry out forcibly, “Who is it?”

“Chrissy…your roommate.” It’s a hesitant voice that greets you. Soft and quiet, but impossibly sweet. The groan that threatens to spill from your lips is swallowed immediately. 

“I totally forgot…” you whisper to Eddie, referring to the girl standing at your doorstep. 

In all your years past, you shared with your father. Now, as the manager for the summer, and Chrissy being the newest addition to camp, you had specifically set her up in your cabin so she could gain a grip on things swiftly in her first summer here at Camp Firefly. Head slumping back against your pillow, you dress in haste, brushing your fingers against your hair and under your eyes to make sure you look presentable, and then walk over to the front door. 

Eddie clears his throat. “Should I head out?” 

You huff a sad sigh, not wanting to see him go. Not after you just got him back. “Rain check?” At his nod, you rush back across the room and press a lingering kiss against his lips. “I’m so happy you’re here. With me.” 

“Me too,” he practically purrs, curling a finger in your belt loop, dropping a final kiss at the center of your forehead. Skin warms under his touch. “Now go—Chrissy’s waiting.” 

There’s a swift crack of his palm against your ass that has you throbbing down to your core, a mock gasp rounding your lips as you turn your head over your shoulder to playfully admonish him. But without the capabilities of doing anything about it, you instead open the door to reveal your beautiful new roommate. 

To say you don’t know Chrissy Cunningham is a lie. Point blank. Everyone at Hawkins High knows her. Recently graduated, incredibly smart, overachiever, and class president. Girlfriend to Jason Carver, and captain of the cheerleading squad. Basically, high school royalty. She’s perfection in a dainty blonde package, with her whimsical laughter and bright eyes, and you can’t help but smile as she pulls you into a hug and excitedly bounces on the balls of her feet. 

It reminds you of your first summer here as a camper. Wide-eyed wonder, with all the hope in the world to go along with it, taking in all the sights, the people, the things. Years later, Camp Firefly still holds that incomparable charm. But it’s different now; especially as a counselor, in charge of making sure all these children have fun, are fed, enriched, and remain alive for the four weeks they’re in your care. 

Though you don’t press them about it, Chrissy and Eddie are technically late. Most of the staff arrives days prior to the campers arriving to run through protocols, to ensure everyone has their proper safety training, the kayaks are checked over for damage, the craft rooms are stocked, meals are decided for the summer session, lifeguard duty is handled, and the like. But this is Eddie’s third summer, and he knows these woods by heart. Chrissy, on the other hand, is a late addition requested by her boyfriend, Jason. You’d been reluctant at first, but another sports coordinator wouldn’t be the worst thing, so you’d added her to the staff list. 

Just as she steps back, you hear the gentle glide of your cabin window shifting upward. A white Reebok covered sneaker presses up to the ledge, drawing Chrissy’s curious gaze from where she stands at your back. Chest burning, you wiggle your fingers at him, his shoulders shrugging. 

“Hey, Chrissy,” Eddie says, grinning widely. She mutters a breathless ‘hi’ back. “I don’t usually make it a habit of sneaking through this window. In case you were wondering…”

He does. 

“I’ll be out of your hair in two seconds,” he adds, boosting himself up and over the windowsill and onto the grass below. At your slowly arching brow, he laughs, “I could have…used the door.”

“Could have used the door, yeah,” you agree, that increasingly familiar sticky fondness toward him bubbling up within you. “See you in the mess hall.”

He backs up as you say it, keeping his eyes on you, thumping against a tree and getting a bunch of leaves caught up in his wonderfully unruly hair. The tops of his cheeks stain red, visible in the slowly setting sun. Smitten—he’s so damn smitten, and he’ll try to hide it from everyone to keep up that metalhead slash dungeon master persona, but he’s absolutely terrible at it and you love it. 

“Bye, Eddie!” Chrissy says gleefully, just as Eddie starts to wave and brush at the leaves poking out haphazardly from dark curls. 

Grinning, you waltz over to the bedroom window, leaning your head out to look at your summer boy turned all year boy. 

“Bye, Eddie,” you drawl a little teasingly, affection dripping from you, sliding the wooden frame shut. 

He pouts and you wave, quick to once more mouth ‘rain check.’ Then, with his form finally retreating to his assigned cabin for the summer, you whirl around to face Chrissy. 

“Okay! Sorry about all of that. I’m the…well, I’m your manager this season. Fred Benson will be your assistant manager, should you need me and not be able to find me at any point. Welcome, we’re so happy to have you here. Now how about we get started on a tour of Camp Firefly?” 

 ——

 Camp Firefly sits on the outskirts of Hawkins. An outdoor oasis nestled deep within the woods, about an hour and a half from the rest of civilization, and home to many campers when the summer season arrives. Stomping grounds of the counselors who roam their wooden cabins, teaching, mentoring and playing with their bright faced youths. 

The sun sits, bright and golden, over the endless sea of emerald green trees. The barest hint of wildflowers and the lake water down the hill hits your nostrils, blown in by the two fans set up around the room to cool the humid summer air. Vaguely, you hear the cicadas bursting into life, the birdsong filtering through the trees kissing heaven, the rush of water in the distance. Beneath it all is the chatter of children, some of the earliest arrivals likely already pestering their counselors about the many activities they’ll be wanting to do, though the first event is always the welcome dinner in the mess hall. 

Gesturing for Chrissy to follow, you usher her out the front door and peer out over the front porch, extending your arms to show her the view from just outside your shared bedroom window. Through the lush foliage just outside your bedroom window, you can see the grassy hill, the sparkling blue water down further below, a long wooden dock that’s also home to a storage cabin full of water sports. Kayaks already bob in the water, their bright colors sparking joy. Vibrant yellows, greens, reds and blues—awaiting their eager pilots. The water gleams a gorgeous azure blue, reflecting a cloudless sky above. 

Your favorite part of every morning is seeing the kids. All their bright smiles, their shoes kicking dirt up as they skip, run, walk and mill about. Those first day jitters remind you of being a younger girl, still a camper, freshly out of school for the session with summer break standing before you and a summer of endless opportunity ahead. You recall your favorite counselors, the way they made you feel, how loved and special it was to spend every day playing, learning and growing. 

And now—now it’s your job. Now you’re in charge of protecting, teaching and encouraging the youth. It’s your job to make sure they never go one day without knowing just how valued, appreciated and loved they are. Seeing their smiling faces, their reception to your encouragement, the way they bloom when exposed to love? It makes all the early morning wake ups, makes every tear shed over a scraped knee or a sprained ankle, all the macaroni necklaces and family portraits, the food fights and arguments between campers, the competitions and music events worth it. 

Chrissy seems enraptured with the whole thing as you lead her down the pathway toward the fire pit in the center of camp. Her head turns everywhere you go, waving to little ones as they rush on by, introducing herself to parents, to the campers she’ll be working with for the next month. You watch her confidence spark to life, flourish, and expand with every minute that goes by beside you. Soon enough there’s that eager bounce to her step that catches your eye, the flick of her ponytail as she greets a new camper with a handshake and a cheery ‘hello,’ the way she starts repeating names of kids after they pass, if only so she can start to remember them all.

Trying. 

She’s trying, and it’s more than you could ask of her as a new addition to the roster and someone who hasn’t done this before. 

“Okay, so let’s start here,” you say, pointing to the fire pit in the center of the camp. On your far right is the ‘Welcome to Camp Firefly’ sign. Stopping in your footsteps, you wait until she’s at your side to proceed. “This is the heart of the camp. We host our campfires here. So that would mean anything from s’mores nights to scary story sessions or icebreaker games. We try to hold them for the kids once a week. Sometimes two, weather permitting. If you’re ever lost, look for the welcome sign.”

“Okay. If I’m ever lost, welcome sign.” She repeats the words slowly, head dipping. Her head whips right and left, peering out against her surroundings. “Got it. We have a lot of kids that come here, don’t we?” 

“We definitely get a good crowd. Mostly Hawkins and Christian Academy students,” you tell her, pulling out your whistle and blowing when you catch Lucas racing after Mike. “Boys! Slow the heck down. Wheeler, your shoelace is also untied! Are you trying to go to Nurse Mooney on day one?”

“Sorry!” They both cry out at the same time, heads bent low as they slow down long enough until they think they’re out of view, and then continue running as quickly as they came, both yours and Chrissy’s heads shaking in laughter. 

“So we passed our cabin, the lake. Over there is the mess hall. We’ll be meeting there at around six for the welcome dinner for the campers and counselors. It’s a good opportunity to meet some of the kids, catch up with friends, and all of that,” you tell her, pointing to the larger building. Pausing, you shift just a bit, where another wooden building looms, doors open to display a stray soccer ball and basketball here and there within. “Over there would be our gymnasium. Obviously we try to do most things outside, but on days it rains that’s our alternative. You’ll find a lot in storage for activities. Steve will show you around there. We also host dances there for the kids. We make a little pizza and ice cream party out of it. Snacks galore, all of that good stuff.” 

You lead her through the back of both buildings, coming up on a pathway that leads to a trail. “Down this trail right here are the girls and boys cabins. Kids are obviously kept separate, but you’ll find that the prank wars start almost immediately. I can always tell by all the shrieking,” you tell her, laughing to yourself at the fondness of the memories that flit through your mind, a kaleidoscope of color and splashes of joy. “Last year the kids got Eddie good. Shouted that Max had skinned her knee—he loves that kid, so he ran to see if she was okay—and he got a bucket of water tossed on him.”

“So we allow the prank wars?” 

“Yeah.” Your feet shift in the dirt. “They’re kids, they’re going to be rowdy, and we encourage it. Some of these kids have a rough go of it during the school year, and this is a sort of escape for them. It’s what I love most about Camp Firefly. Just watching them play, learn…explore. It’s really rewarding. I know it’s only four weeks, but you’ll miss these guys once they’re back on the buses and headed home with their families.”

“Makes you really appreciate the place. I, ah, know sometimes how hard people might have it at home and school, so this place probably means the world to them.” Chrissy stares up at the pathway. At the wooden cabins with their bright, colorful hammocks dancing in the wind on their porches. You wonder briefly what she’s thinking, but she only smiles softly to herself, saying, “Thanks again. For letting me work here.” 

 ——

 “Well look what the cat dragged in!” Dustin calls from beside Eddie, just as you and Chrissy finally wander into the mess hall. 

Eddie barely even has a chance to raise his hand in greeting when the curly haired brunette comes rushing forward into your awaiting arms. Another pair greets you next, long and gangly, with dark hair that definitely looks different than it did last summer. 

Will. 

“I was so excited when I saw you and El on the sign up list,” you tell him, rustling the hairs on his head. His head tips up, leaning into the weight of your hand atop. “So happy you’re all back from California. Did you get a new haircut? Maybe grow a few inches as well?” 

Will merely blushes, stepping back, shoulders brushing with Dustin’s. “Eddie said you’re manager this year,” Dustin starts, but Mike tosses a bread roll at his head and the boy is whirling on the heel and flipping his friend off. 

“Your crush is showing, dipshit,” Mike teases, voice bored and lofty. 

“Be nice,” El grumbles, waving your way. 

Chrissy shifts awkwardly at your side, taking in the numerous pairs of eyes also sitting at the table. From where you’re standing, looking over Dustin and Will’s heads, you can see Max, Lucas and his little sister Erica. All of which are bright eyed and happy to see you, practically bouncing with energy where they sit between Eddie and Steve. Some of the other counselors are at other tables, chatting with their kids and one another. Jason, Chance and Andy are rough housing in the distance with some of the older boys. And you can make out Jonathan and Argyle with Nancy and Robin at the table just beside the one Eddie and Steve sit at. 

Your heart swells over being reunited with everyone. Even if you’d seen them at school only a few weeks ago now. Tugging Chrissy to your side, you clear your throat, drawing the attention of the kids. “This is Chrissy. I’m sure some of you already knew that, but this is her first summer as a counselor.” 

Eyes all over turn to gauge the newest addition to Camp Firefly. Careful perusals, questioning stares, that all eventually melt into curiosity and hopefulness. Before long the kids are ready to bombard her with endless questions as soon as you two find spots to sit down on the mess hall benches. Asking her what it’s like on her first day at camp, if being a cheerleader is fun, what her favorite movies and colors are, what ice cream she likes, what she’d want to be if she woke up as an animal one day. Silly, simple icebreaker things. Small talk that has her loosening as time goes on, easing into a familiar banter that makes your muscles loosen, Eddie’s hand seeking your knee under the table.

“You’re doing well,” he reassures you, and you cover his palm with your own, because, as usual, he knows exactly what you need at the moment. And maybe you are—doing well, that is. It’s the first day of camp, everyone is happy, and things are running smoothly.

Releasing an exhale, you gesture for Chrissy to follow you toward the buffet line, full to the brim with various easily accessible meals. Chicken nuggets, pizza slices, macaroni and cheese, sandwiches, and the like. One thing you’ve always prided the camp in is the ability to go above and beyond making sure each camper’s needs are met—counselors, too. Together you load your plates, recounting the tour around camp, Chrissy regaling you with the names she’s already starting to learn. 

“The redhead is…Max, right?” she asks, and you nod, thinking of your favorite little redheaded youth. 

“That would be her. She’s a toughie, but she means well.” 

She’s also had a rough go as of late, though you don’t tell Chrissy that. Her step-brother, Billy, had been one of the many lost in the fire at Starcourt Mall. It had been a grave loss—all of those lives gone in an instant. It hadn’t mattered how terrible he’s been when alive, it still crushed her all the same. And with her having started high school this year, you can’t even begin to understand the hardships she’s been going through. As often as you could throughout the school year you’ve checked up on her, offered to spend time with her after class, to sit with her in the cafeteria during lunches, but she’s always pushed you aside. Brushed you off, away, out of sight. And you understand—you really do. Seeing her at camp, trying and open to the next four weeks, however, has your chest burning with hope. 

“Then there’s…Will and El. They’re step-siblings. Dustin, he’s Eddie and Steve’s friend. Erica and Lucas…siblings. And Mike.”

“You’re getting it.” You place your macaroni and cheese on your plate and toss on a bread roll, watching as Chrissy shovels a slice of pizza onto hers. “It’ll take some time. But it’s your first day. Trust me, you're doing great.”

 ——

 The welcome dinner passes as usual. Kids and counselors alike catch up and recall their memories from all the months spent apart. You prattle on with your kids and watch Eddie out of the corner of your eye as he talks with Dustin and Mike about whatever fantastical campaign he’s planning for their first DND session on the campgrounds. 

It splits your heart. Makes it swell three sizes. On your right, Chrissy and Erica are caught up in a duel. Whoever breaks first in a staring contest loses, prompted by none other than Lucas himself. Suggesting since it’s Chrissy’s first day, she’s in need of a little ‘initiation ceremony.’ 

You and Robin make light of Steve’s present dating life. Laughing when he expresses he’s not actually on the market because he’s interested in an older woman, but he won’t exactly tell you who. Although, when a certain Miss Mooney walks in, you can’t help but to notice the way his eyes catch her across the room. How he quite literally goes white as a sheet and gulps loud enough the two of you can hear him. 

And maybe your brow arches high on your forehead, and maybe he grumbles for you to mind your damn business, but Robin and you burst into giggles all the same, grinning bright for the boy with hearts quite literally dancing in his eyes for the newest nurse to work the medical cabin for the summer session. 

“Should I invite her over?” 

“Eddie, tell your girlfriend to stop—”

“My girlfriend does whatever she wants,” Eddie chuckles, leaning onto his elbows. “What are you doing now?” 

“Steve is hopelessly in love with Nurse Mooney,” you tease, wiggling your shoulders, grinning widely. 

“Who knows?” Robin bumps her shoulder against his. Steve lets out a sound that resembles a whimper and you can’t help but let out a little snort. Eddie elbows him roughly in the ribs, telling him to ‘look alive’ when Nurse Mooney walks by and settles down at a nearby table. “Maybe this will be the beginning of something beautiful?”

“Should I start singing?” you ask. 

“Summer Nights?” Robin winks, earning a loud groan. 

“On three. One, two—”

“You’re all the worst, okay?!” Steve grumbles, resting his head on the table. “I’m disowning all of you as my friends. I’m not even joking.” 

Summer is officially here. 

 ——

 The first few days of summer pass in the familiar Hawkins heat. Every morning you rise to the sound of your alarm clock and announce over the speakers it’s time for the kids to wake up. Immediately, you’re dressing and preparing yourself for the day. Bright white shirt, green lettering, green shorts. 

Chrissy rolls out of bed yawning and quiet, tiredness clinging to her form, slowly adjusting to the rigid schedule you try to maintain at Camp Firefly. Seven thirty rise, eight in the morning breakfast in the mess hall, and then groups are split into their respective activities for the day.

You merely observe on those initial days, taking in the energetic buzz that seems to linger over the air as counselor and camper alike get back into the groove of sleep away summer camp. Heat slicks your skin as you traipse through the forest floor, waving as you go. 

Steve and Chrissy teach archery one day, bows drawn back, kids lined up across a strip of targets set up far away in the distance. 

On another, you manage to pass the arts and crafts cabin, watching as Robin and Nancy cheer on campers for drawing their bright rainbows, caricatures of their families, replicas of their homes. 

One evening you stumble upon Jonathan and Argyle after a particularly eventful hike, wherein some of the kids came back with various herbs and mushrooms you weren’t exactly sure were safe and up to code. 

Another, you manage to find Eddie bent over, cheering on a little one as they strum carefully on an acoustic guitar, eliciting the proper chords he’d been trying to teach. 

At the lake, you wave and grin as campers paddle across the water in their brightly colored kayaks, cheering on their friends for making it across the way, high-fiving Jason and Andy when they happen to do something especially noteworthy. 

Your phone calls to your father are breezy. The children’s echoing laughter is a backdrop to your conversation. And he only praises you for the job well done, warming you from the inside out. 

I can do this, you think, hanging up the phone and glancing out the window to see a bunch of children running by with colorful pool floats, headed in the direction of the lake. I can actually do this.

Before long it’s the first Saturday of the summer in the mess hall. Which means the traditional food fight. The rules are simple enough. Every year, a kid is chosen from a hat, and they’re the instigator. The person who throws the first spoonful, handful, whatever they choose. But no one knows who that person is. Attack is imminent, and everyone around is a sitting duck, praying they make it out without a bowl full of mashed potato on their head (like last summer, when Erica had very excitedly tossed it right onto Steve Harrington’s perfectly coiffed hair). 

The room is quiet now. Camper and counselor alike seated at wooden tables, glancing about, trying to see who their betrayer will be. Friendship doesn’t matter on ‘Food Fight Day.’ It’s a tradition. Traditions, apparently, trump friendship. One could hear a pin drop, could cut the tension with a knife, trying to see if anyone drops their facade and gives a hint of what is to come. 

And for who. 

Across from you, there’s movement. A spoon rises from beneath the table, poised at the ready within Max’s hands. Your breath hitches as her eyes fall onto yours, spoon scooping up a helping of gravy. Stomach turning, you watch as kids snicker about the table. As Eddie nudges Steve with an elbow, pointing your way. 

“Max, please,” you start, holding up your hands in surrender, “you don’t have to do this.”

“Oh—” She releases her spoon and gravy splatters across your face. You blink once, trying to hold back your disgust and laughter. “But I do.”

After that, it’s a cacophony of joyous giggling in the hall as campters gather around the tables, hands inching closer to the endless rows of food across the tables, preparing themselves for war. Condiments, ranch, ketchups and mustards. Spaghetti noodles and pizza slices. Hamburgers and hotdog buns at the ready, drenched in whatever mystery sauce the children had soaked them in. 

There’s a moment, however brief, where the gravy drips down onto your cheek, glides down your skin, and dances along your upper lip. A moment where there’s a respite in the building of anticipation. Kids all glance around at one another, a silent conversation left to linger in the air. And then, with her spoon filled with macaroni and cheese at the ready, Erica Sinclair stands up on top of the table. 

And screams, “FOOD FIGHT!”

Battle cries echo around the mess hall, and the food fight commences. The air crackles and roars with excitement as fingers smash and push into their respective bowls, projectiles soaring through the air like torpedos and landing on their assigned targets. Casualties are in the midst, children in the way, those unsuspecting, ending up with splashes of red tomato sauce on their faces, crimson splatters like little flowers across their shirts. Lettuce flutters in the air, like confetti exploding into the atmosphere, falling down onto heads and shoulders and the floor. 

You’re running around the table with a handful of macaroni and cheese as Robin tosses a slice of cheese at the back of your head. A frisbee of yellow that lingers against your hair for a moment before falling to the ground. Dustin screams on your right, yelling he’s been hit as a spoonful of mayo hits him right in the eye, body falling to the ground into a dramatic heap. Max screams as Lucas pulls out a slingshot, shouting that he’s using an illegal weapon as he loads brussel sprouts onto the contraption and pulverizes Mike with the projectile.  

Dropping down onto your knees, you army crawl underneath the tables, avoiding oncoming ammunition and the shrieks of children as you make your way over to your target. Every year, without fail, it’s Steve “the Hair” Harrington. Doesn’t matter he wasn’t the chosen first target this year. It’s just as much of a tradition as the food fight in and of itself. And, out of the corner of your eye, you catch your comrade in food arms. Eddie crawls as well, hand covered in a ketchup, using his elbows to leverage himself across the floor. Nearly even gets hit with a potato bun from friendly fire (Argyle, who apologizes profusely when he realizes what he’s done). 

You meet with him in the center, ducking out of the way of a stray cube of cheese, shoulders bumping. “If I don’t make it,” you begin, but Eddie cuts you off. 

“You will make it, you will.” He’s shaking with laughter, covered from head to toe in a mess of various ingredients, but still as handsome as the first day you saw him at summer camp two seasons ago now. “Our target is about seven feet away. You take him from the left, and I’ll hit him from above. Do you hear me?” 

“I do.” You lean over and peck his cheek. “Also, I missed you.” 

“Eyes on the target,” he says, trying to maintain your foolish facade. His features crack, corners of his mouth twitching with his boisterous laughter. “But…I missed you too.” 

“Alright.” You nod, training your gaze ahead where Steve is currently defending himself from an onslaught of pickles. “I’m going in for the kill.” 

It happens in what feels like slow motion. It’s a perfect plan. A great one, really. One you and your friends have been plotting since before the summer season started. Get close enough, hit the target, and call it a game. But as you slide out from beneath your table and rush forward to an unsuspecting Steve Harrington, Chrissy Cunningham barrels through with a squeeze bottle of ketchup. You’re hit. Square in the chest. In your shock and distraction, Eddie fails to notice his comrade is down. Slips out from beneath his hiding space with his handful of ketchup, just as El appears holding aloft two mustard bottles.

You’ve both been caught. 

Steve saunters forward, throwing his arms up to deflect incoming projectiles, glancing down at the two of you. Eddie throws his hands up in the air in surrender, swallowing at the red streaks across your chest. Obliterated—you’ve been obliterated by the presently grinning Chrissy, her hair full of stray macaroni salad pieces, chest streaked with other unmentionable condiments and food items, a little piece of lettuce stuck in her shoelaces. 

“Well, well, well. You two really thought you were getting away with a repeat of last year. Surprising, coming from two of my best friends. But a little birdie told me what was to come, so I had time to collect some reinforcements.” He gestures to Chrissy and El, still standing before you determinedly. “Any last words?” 

You’ve prepared for this moment. Prepared for the chance you might be intercepted before you could take down the intended target. 

Eddie glances at you. You look back, head dipping. Eddie trains his eyes ahead, tipping his chin upward. “Look up, big boy.” 

Steve pauses, brows furrowing high on his forehead. “Look up?” He does, and out rushes none other than Robin and Nancy themselves, with a bucket of cold tomato sauce in hand. In his distraction, he doesn't see them coming. In his distraction, he fails to prepare himself for the two of them appearing from behind, pouring the contents over his head, drenching him from the fullness of his hair all the way down to his toes. 

Kids are shrieking in their delight all around you, but as Steve wipes eyes free of tomato sauce, you clasp your hand in Eddie’s. 

Because you know in that instant, you’ve won the war. 

 ——

 The key jangles in your pocket as the two of you stumble into the private showers. He’s everywhere. Fingers digging into your hips, lips against yours, pulling you close. Tugging you forward, craving nearness. Wanting to be close, and then even closer still. Always closer. 

As the children continue their food fight across the camp grounds, you slip into the shower facilities you know are typically vacant during the evening hours. Undisturbed, you close the door behind you, prying yourself away from Eddie’s wandering hands long enough to jimmy the sliding lock into place, grinning when the sound of metal signals peace and quiet once and for all. 

“You’re disgusting,” you chuckle, and he knows you don’t mean it. Not really. 

In a crowded room of thousands, you’d choose him every time. Even like this, with ketchup and mustard across his shirt. Mayo across his proud cheekbones. Macaroni in those dark curls you could spend the rest of your days toying with. He’s still everything you could ever hope for—and he looks at you like he thinks the same. Like even with your shirt covered in ketchup, streaks of red across your chest, the likely remnants of the cheese frisbee at the back of your head, and the rice clinging to that coagulated patch of mayo on the leg of your shorts, he would still think you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. 

Eyes that roam over your form even now. Dark in the growing moonlight. In here, where there’s nothing but quiet. The chaos of the campers long gone, leaving you alone in the sanctuary of togetherness. Tentative feet carry you closer, hands trailing the sides of Eddie’s right arm, running over the short sleeve that covers the wyvern tattoo you know rests high along his tricep, trailing lower still down to his wrist, his hand. With trembling fingers, you grip his palm in hand and raise it up, over your hips, over your sides, curling over your breast. Gasp into his opened mouth just millimeters from yours as his fingers knead the sensitive flesh, his husky voice whispering your name into the empty vestibule. 

In here, you are merely two people, still exploring the newness of your relationship. There are no responsibilities, no children calling your name, no one there to remind you of your job duties. Here you can lean in and press your mouth to his, swallow the groan that falls from his lips as your hips press flush against his, the growl that echoes as you glide your hand over the patch of hair above his waistband, trailing lower, and then lower still where you find him half-hard in his shorts already and curl your fingers around the fullness of him. 

“You’re kind of gross yourself,” he teases against your mouth, smirking into the skin of your lips as his palm slides down around your back and cups your rear, kneading the flesh until you yelp into him. “We smell like the mess hall.” 

The words are a bucket of ice water thrown onto you. A realization that, yes, you do smell absolutely putrid. A conglomerate of more things strewn about your bodies than you can count on one hand has now had time to sit and attract the summer humidity. Lingers in the air, even as your mouth moves slowly over his, drawing those lovely sounds from him you’ll never tire of. With a reluctant sigh, you part from his embrace, taking a step back to watch as he reaches down and tugs his shirt free from his form. There’s a new tattoo across his ribs. A coiling snake that curves up his side, black and white linework immediately drawing the eye to the forefront. Curiosity beckons you forward, fingers brushing along skin, along the lines, Eddie’s dark gaze following yours. 

“Got this while you were on tour?” you ask. 

“Figured it would be a surprise,” he says, smoothing a palm over the side of your face. “Do you like it?” 

“I do.” And it’s not a lie. Not as you brush along his ribcage, grinning to yourself as he tenses and twitches under your ministrations, teeth pressing into his bottom lip to keep quiet. 

Exhaling, you take a step back and tug your shirt off, rubbing at your bicep as his chocolate brown eyes run along your silhouette. Sensing your hesitance, he whispers, “You’re beautiful, you know that, right?”

“Never hurts when you remind me.” 

“You are.” 

It continues like that. He tugs his shorts off and kicks them into the far corner. You remove yours and place them on a towel rack. His socks become a pile on the floor with yours. His boxers are thrown haphazardly, and your underwear follow the same, becoming a heap alongside your bra. The water itself is luxuriously warm. The spray coasts along your skin, warming you from head to toe. With a hum, you turn around to face away from Eddie, letting the steady stream run along your face, washing you clean. A broad pair of arms circle low around your hips, his chin tucking over your shoulder, mouth at your ear. And you linger like that, with the steady flow of water washing away the remnants of your food fight, his body warm against yours, and the rest of the world fading into the background. For a moment, time slows. There’s nothing but you and Eddie, your private oasis, and the love shared between the two of you, full to the brim, threatening to burst at the seams. 

The two of you take turns cleaning one another. He glides a bar of soap gently over your skin, and you do the same for him. Shampoo is built into a lather and rubbed into scalp, mouths meet in the middle to kiss away the sting when suds manage their way in sensitive eyes, and hearts hammer faster as the bar is tossed out of the shower curtain and mouths become fervent, needy, persistent. 

Outside, campers and counselors alike are shrieking and giggling, but inside there’s only this moment. 

This man. 

“What are you—” It’s a question broken off into a huff of breath. A gasp as your knees hit the shower floor, eyes round as they seek his face. “You don’t have t—”

“I want to.” 

And soon, your oasis becomes your own symphony. A melody only the two of you know. Kisses along his thighs. The tender presses of your mouth over the sensitive flesh of his abdomen. Nips laid into skin, utterances of his praises. Pleas of ‘like that’ and ‘good girl’ as you finally take him into your mouth. Grunts and groans. Whimpers and moans. Fingers that cradle the back of your hand, but never push. It builds, grows, bursts behind his eyes. Hits a peak, reaches a crescendo, and those final lingering notes where he lifts you back to your feet, himself boneless and tired, eyes hazy as he leans down and captures his mouth with yours. 

And you return with equal fervor, happy to please, hopeless when it comes to the man. 

But there’s a knock at the door, and you know the food fight will have been finished by now. Accept the fact you can't stay hidden away from society forever. There’s a final brush of your lips over his, and the acceptance of responsibilities, but those memories of stolen moments remain all the same. Even as you dress in tandem. Even as you slip your shorts back on, your socks, your shoes. As he shakes his wet hair out, letting the curls fall as they will, his mouth roving over your shoulders, eliciting a peal of laughter from you. Even as you scrunch your nose when he blows a raspberry into your neck, if only so you'll smile at him. 

You bite your lip and ignore Robin’s curious gaze as the two of you slip out one after the other. As Steve tuts mockingly, appraising both your forms with weary eyes. Even as you slip back into your cabin after one final lingering kiss on the front steps, Eddie’s hands cradling your face, and your arms around his shoulders. And especially as Chrissy greets you in the doorway, her own blonde hair freshly washed, an oversized hoodie falling freely over her form. You dress quickly in the bathroom, tossing your dirty clothes into a hamper and pulling on a comfortable pair of shorts and a ratty old tee shirt that has one too many holes in it. Your feet slide into a pair of slippers and you walk back into the main room. You don’t question where she’s been, nor do you tease for the bruise you spot on her collarbone. And she doesn't prod or pry over the one that must have slipped away, left to linger on your neck. 

Instead you curl onto your sides, away from one another. She kicks her socks off at the foot of her bed, and you throw your slippers into a heap on the floor. You reach over and tug on the pull cord of the lamp. The room descends into darkness. There’s only the sounds of your breathing, the hammer of your heart, and the memories of kisses in dark shower stalls, Eddie’s mouth on yours, yours on his, and hands on bodies. 

You call Chrissy’s name hesitantly into the darkness of the room. Wanting to ask her about the day. Wondering if she enjoyed it, if she was enjoying her time thus far. But you’re only met with the sound of her quiet breathing. Gentle inhalations and exhalations of your reluctant roommate. 

Tomorrow—you’ll ask her tomorrow. 

 ——

 It’s not intentional—the way it all starts that second summer you share with Eddie. 

Eddie’s loud and boisterous. Rowdy. Charismatic, frenetic, energetic. He’s different, unique, atypical. Stands outside of societal norms and has no qualms about it. Lives in the spotlight, if only to keep those nearest to him safe. 

He’s also a worker at your father’s camp. Has been for two years now as a favor to his Uncle Wayne. For years, his uncle and your father work at the same power plant when your father isn’t directing the summer program at Camp Firefly. 

Eddie and you aren’t friends. Haven’t been. He’s the kind of person you pass in the hall. Maybe you wave, maybe you give him a smile, a curt nod. But you’re most certainly not friends. And over the summer you’re often on opposite sides of the camp. Eddie usually goes to the music and arts cabin, while you remain on the lake as a lifeguard or helping around wherever else help may be needed. 

It’s that second summer something changes. Eddie’s…well, he’s always been attractive. Dark hair, dark eyes, those tattoos lining his arms. He smiles more your way, interjects in your conversations with your friends, opens up more. You start to hang out. Alone. Away from the prying eyes of your friends, talking about everything and nothing. Learning, growing, enjoying merely sharing space with one another. 

And it’s one day, while you’re both assigned cleaning duty after your father had caught the two of you smoking on camp grounds that it really starts. The two of you sit in the gymnasium, mops and brushes in hand, sweeping and disinfecting the surfaces. It reeks of sweat and dirty tube socks, like teenagers and food thrown away and forgotten in the garbage, and yet nothing prevents the way your heart thumps a little swiftly, how you’re aware of every inch of your body around him, the way he regards you as you work. 

“Thanks,” he says out of the blue, wringing out the mop, draping it in the wheeling cart. 

Your brow arches and he drops down beside you, extending a hand to you. Passing over your brush, he scrubs at a particularly dirty patch you’ve been working at for the better part of ten minutes. 

“For, uh, taking the blame.” 

As your father had marched over to where you and Eddie had sat smoking in the woods earlier, you snatched the joint from Eddie’s fingers and stamped it out quickly. Kept it tucked away, though there had been no avoiding he’d seen it. It was inevitable. His face had grown severe, brows narrowed, wondering when his ‘little girl’ had taken up the habit. And you’d shrugged, pretended it meant nothing, unaffected. As a result, both of you were banished for the afternoon to cleaning duties, making sure the place was scrubbed from top to bottom. 

A punishment that felt a little like fate, if you were honest with yourself. 

“It’s no problem—”

“I just—you didn’t have to do that,” he says, tossing the brush into the bucket on his left. Drops down onto his knees, staining the green of his shorts darker in the sudsy puddle below. “I need this job, believe it or not, and my uncle would have killed me if I fucked things up with your dad.”

“Eddie, it’s fine. I…I wanted to,” you remind him. “I like spending time with you.” 

He glances down at the floor, hair spilling about his shoulders. For a moment, your lips part, afraid you might have said too much—might have made him uncomfortable. But his ringed fingers reach across and twine loosely around yours, testing the weight of them within his fingers, gauging your reaction. Dark, chocolate brown eyes rise to yours, your palm shifting his hand to face upward within your own. Gentle touches glide over the curve of his hand, the lines and creases there, the calluses from guitar strings. 

“This okay?” you ask, finally lacing your fingers with his to linger in the gap between the two of you. 

He nods, shifting closer. Closer and closer until your knees brush. “Yeah—yeah, it’s perfect.” 

He shifts closer again, head dipping a little. You’ve kissed other people before. Small things, never serious. A game of truth or dare around the campfire only after a couple beers, after a date once or twice, but never like this. Never with a boy you’d liked for the better part of the summer. Never someone like Eddie, who made butterflies erupt in your belly, made you feel all those silly emotions in all the movies you’d seen where a guy meets a girl and they fall in love. 

This is different. Feels different. There’s a weight and importance to it. A desire to get it right. So you shift closer, soaking the bottom of your shorts, but you don’t find it in yourself to care. Not when his nose brushes your cheek, not when you can feel his breath on your bottom lip, can smell the stick of gum he’d been chewing on, can nearly taste the cinnamon you’ll find there if you do. 

“This okay?” he asks this time, bringing his right palm up to curl around your cheek, warming your skin. 

It’s brief. It’s so brief after you nod. The softest caress of his mouth along yours, a whisper of skin touching skin, before your father’s gruff voice breaks the silence with a harsh reminder from the upstairs storage room, “Doesn't sound like a lot of work is getting done in here!”

Bodies jolt apart, cheeks burning hot, hearts burning brighter. 

But it marks a newness. A beginning that builds and grows as you explore the start of ‘togetherness’ those last days of summer at Camp Firefly. It’s kissing behind the gym when no one is around and he can sneak you away, it’s Eddie helping you out and into bedroom windows after hours, spending time together tangled under the stars. 

Later, in those last weeks of summer camp, it’s exploring hands in the dark, over clothes and under. It’s quiet whispers of ‘are you sure’ and eyes that bore into your soul, his mouth inches from yours. It’s your words of consent, it’s his reciprocation. It’s giving yourselves to one another on that last day of packing up camp. Standing before one another in your now abandoned cabin you generally share with your father. Eddie’s hands rest on your hips, and yours toy with the curls brushing his shoulders. Your noses dip together, mouths mingling in the center, bodies crushing in close. His hips press into yours and you feel him hot there, unbearably so. 

And you grow eager, fingers curling in the leather of his jacket, pushing it free from his shoulders, nails raking along the skin that lingers beneath his ratty old tee shirt. You tug that free and he helps you out of your shirt. An awkward gaggle of limbs and tear stained, giggle kissed cheeks. It’s a silent perusal of eyes as you slip off layers of clothing. Your bra, his pants, your underwear, and his boxers. They become heaps in the corners of the room as you touch each other, letting fingers rove in places you’d only ventured alone within the privacy of your bedrooms. It’s sharing that newfound intimacy with another person, for the both of you. 

And yeah, Camp Firefly might have been where it all begins, but it only just starts the summer of 1985. 

 ——

 Every summer, staff rotates the weekends some of the counselors get a night off. It’s always one day where everyone can take a night to relax. That day just so happens to be the first Saturday at camp wherein you’re able to stretch your legs in front of you, donning an oversized Camp Firefly hoodie with your name stitched over your heart, sandaled feet warming by the fire. 

The orange glow crackles and dances before your eyes. Sparks jolting onto the wood below, embers dimming as quickly as they come. Warmth heats your cheeks, draws you closer to the comfortable slumber you can’t wait to take advantage of later. For now, you reach over onto your left and slide your fingers over Eddie’s. His head turns your way, dark eyes clashing with yours as those ringed fingers lace with your own, giving you a quick squeeze. 

Robin and Steve sit nearby on a pair of chairs. Heads bent low, voices quiet in the midst of a private conversation. On their left are Argyle, Jonathan and Nancy. Argyle works on rolling a couple joints as the trio chats, his head bobbing often, silky hair catching and gleaming in the moonlight. Jason and Chrissy recount tales about their kids—Jason with the ones on the lake, teaching them to kayak, showing them proper swimming form and the like; whereas Chrissy explains how her kids learned how to play soccer with Steve’s help. 

Somewhere in the distance you can hear Fred practically fretting himself half to death. Questioning how it is all of you can be spending time away, while the rest of the staff lingers behind. And Chance promptly tells him to ‘shut the fuck up,’ just as he takes a sip of his own beer. 

With a sigh, your head leans back against the fabric of your chair, the can of beer in your hand already lukewarm. You’ve barely sipped any—mind still faraway, recalling the day, making note of what worked and what didn’t that week, trying to keep up with inventory, already planning on your phone call with your father. 

Noticing your daze, Eddie’s thumb brushes along the inside of your wrist. Warm and welcoming. Soothing in a way that has your head rolling a bit, fingers wanting nothing more than to push into those dark curls and remain there, the rest of those around you falling away, leaving you alone with your favorite guy. 

“I’ll still never get over it,” Andy drawls, leaning back against his chair. Tina shifts on his lap, a beer bottle hanging loosely in her hand. You arch a brow in curiosity, and maybe a bit of warning. “The Freak and the Princess. Who would have thought?”

You tense beside Eddie, and he tips his head up to Andy. “Seriously man, get fucked.”

“Testy, testy.” At your glower, he continues, "I'm just joking with you and our Princess here.” 

The man in question rises from his chair, nearly sending Tina falling to the floor in his haste. His fist thumps down on the shoddy radio perched on a wooden stump. “Pass the Dutchie” spills out, the joyful tune breaking up the hoots of owls, the frogs bellowing in the lake, and the gentle night song of grasshoppers. His zip up jacket shifts as he moves, dark hair unkempt still from spending most of the day in the hot sun, jumping in and out of the lake. 

“I think we need to liven this party up,” he says, tipping his head back, guzzling down the rest of his beer. Tina giggles airily from her chair, hair twirling around her index finger. Andy shoots a sly grin her way, brows waggling. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Anyway, I heard this really interesting story recently.” 

“Oh?” Chance asks, looping an arm around Fred’s shoulder, dragging him nearer to the fire and shoving him down into a chair. “Come on Benson. It’s not going to kill you to enjoy one night out—”

“Actually it’s imperative that—”

“Benson,” Jason warns. “It’s one of our only days off. Give it a rest.”

“Jason,” Chrissy sighs, nudging his shin with her shoe. “Be nice.”

“Anyone got a light handy?” Argyle calls from the other side of the fire, finally done rolling. “Enjoy, brochachos. Some good shit we got today.”

He’s referring to his and Eddie’s side business, the two having become fast friends since he moved to Hawkins only a few months ago now from California with Jonathan and the rest of the Byers family. Your father definitely doesn’t know about it, and you intend to keep it that way. 

Fred’s already been threatened if he knows what’s good for him, and if he wants a chance at a second summer as assistant manager, he’ll shut his trap and avert his eyes. The slow hesitance of him presently reaching for his beer tab and popping his can open reassures you that the breath you’re holding can release into open air, lungs expelling gratefully. 

The joints are passed around the fire, split with those wanting to participate. 

“Sweetheart?” Eddie asks, quietly so no one hears. You find you prefer it that way—the fondness of the nickname from his lips like a secret meant only for your ears.

Normally you’d say yes, having spent many nights at Lover’s Lake in the early weeks of your relationship smoking by the water, basking in the newness of your romance, talking about life and the twinkling constellations above. But at your hesitation and the soft shake of your head ‘no,’ Eddie lights his own, his thumb grazing the inside of your wrist once more. 

The group descends into a semblance of quiet, broken up by the exhales of smoke into the air, the scent swirling in your nostrils. Andy drops back down into his chair, done with his gallant twirl in a slow circle, garnering the attention of his mostly involuntary crowd. 

“Have any of you heard of…the realm that lives beneath Hawkins?” 

Your group lets out a round of frustrated sighs and groans, all of you having heard the tales told by the investigative programs, your bored neighbors. Hawkins, your gateway to hell town, harbinger of death and blah blah blah bullshit. For years, it’s been idle chatter, told by those looking for controversy. Conspiracies. 

But there are realities to every story. Newspaper articles conveying the events that happened, television programs documenting the tragedies that befall every town. Tragedies. Unfortunate circumstances that led to lives lost. And yet there are those who would dig up those graves for a sordid story. For their own entertainment. 

“Monsters that crawl on twos and fours—”

“With claws and rows and rows of teeth,” Steve finishes, rolling his eyes, sighing exasperatedly. “We’ve all heard the stories, Andy.” 

“Yeah, but what about the stories where they literally strip the flesh from a human body?” He whirls his face closer to you and Eddie and you jolt in your chair. “Rows of teeth that can skin a human. Made to be an apex predator.”

“Andy,” Nancy warns with the roll of her eyes. 

“Have you heard the story of Henry Creel, though? The guy who killed his family in 1959?” he asks. The group settles into an eerie silence, bodies shifting around the fire to attention. “Mom and sister, bodies unrecognizable. Mangled. Dad’s locked away. In Pennhurst.”

“Andy…” you cry, breath hitching at the brutality of it. 

There were stories, yes. You’d heard of the Creel family. No one ever ventured to their abandoned home in the woods. No one dared. You weren’t one to believe in those stories. They were stories, after all. Stories people have been telling for decades, meant for entertainment and to elicit terror. 

“It’s that abandoned house in these very woods,” he says, opening another beer. “They say he died too. That he’s some sort of spirit now that haunts the halls of that home. That he feeds off of grief and guilt and trauma, claiming souls for him to open the gate beneath Hawkins. For every person he kills, he gets closer to literally making Hawkins hell on earth. I'm convinced the tragedies we keep hearing about…I think they’re part of some sort of ritual of his. He’s been getting stronger all this time, just waiting for the perfect moment.” 

“Andy, that’s absurd,” Robin splutters, glancing amongst Nancy, Steve and Jonathan. Each wears a look of varying degrees of concern. Steve’s brows knit together, Jonathan shifting wearily to look at Nancy, Nancy staring off into the distance. There’s no time to dawdle on what those expressions mean as Robin opens her mouth again, prattling, “You can’t honestly believe that a dead guy is doing all of this.”

“Just give it a rest, will you, man,” Steve adds, another roll of his eyes that’s so obvious you wonder if everyone just shuts up for a moment you'll hear it. “There’s no…other dimension of monsters and no dead dude sacrificing the souls of Hawkins to open some gates.”

Andy shrugs. “You scared, Harrington.”

“Horrified,” he drawls, and you snort. At that, his lips twitch. “Now can we move on since I’m shaking like a leaf out here in my terror?” 

“Yeah, dude, pretty sure you talking about dead people is killing our high,” Argyle agrees, passing off his joint to Jonathan. 

The song shifts to “Hungry Like the Wolf” and the conversation changes as well. To lighter topics now, things that don’t make nervous jitters crawl up your spine, don’t make you want to sleep with one eye open at night. Argyle is fully transitioning into life here in Hawkins, and plans on staying for the foreseeable future. Steve and Robin are working harder than ever at Family Video, with Steve being promoted to manager since Keith was moved to another location. Nancy and Jonathan plan on signing a lease to an apartment some time later this year, and when everyone turns to you and Eddie all you can do is express that you’re both doing well. Eddie’s just gotten off of a small, local tour, you’re planning on business college in the fall to eventually help your father run the camp permanently. 

It’s not before long that the gentle hum of music, the smell of the crackling fire mixed with the weed, the tang of beer on your tongue, and the quiet conversation lures you into a warm embrace. Eyes fluttering, you cup the bottom of your jaw within your palm, elbow propped up on the fabric of your camping chair. You doze off for minutes, maybe hours, you’re uncertain, before you feel the gentle glide of Eddie’s finger along the line of your temple, the top of your cheek. A low hum spills from your lips, and you wake to find the guys pouring water on the remnants of the fire, while others pack away the snacks and alcohol. The camping chairs are loaded into their respective bags and slung over shoulders, and it’s time to head to bed, the first staff part of the summer a success. 

Forest floor crackling and rustling beneath your feet, you follow beside Chrissy while Steve, Eddie and Jonathan chat with Argyle up ahead. Nancy and Robin have locked arms with one another, bodies swaying likely from alcohol and weed still buzzing in their system and you trail to your left where Chrissy is watching them and glancing your way every so often. Her teeth worry her bottom lip, like she wants to say something, like she doesn’t know exactly what that even may be. 

“Tonight was fun,” Chrissy says, body nearly brushing yours. You reach across your chest to cup your biceps, hugging yourself. There’s a pause. A momentary hesitation that has your skin prickling with awareness. “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” you admit, allowing yourself the unfamiliar comfort of her heat against you. 

This seems to be suitable for your cabin mate, light eyes darting to yours in the moonlight, crinkling around the edges in glee. Not a friendship, not just yet, but something. An olive branch. 

“Look—I know we didn’t—”

“Watch out, it’s Henry Creel coming to steal your soul!” 

A pair of hands clutch at your shoulders, jostling you wildly in a pair of unwanted arms. The shriek that spills with you slices the air, heads turning immediately to the source. Heart hammering, you’re hardly aware of your surroundings as Steve and Eddie barrel forward, shoving Andy away from you and threatening him to never put his hands on you again. Andy hits the ground with a loud thud, Eddie’s chest rising and falling rapidly in his exertion as he stares down at him. The man on the forest floor cackles, chest shaking with the throes of his entertainment, palms already visibly torn up from where he swiftly tried to break his fall. Vaguely you recognize Fred’s worried voice, trying to ease up the tension—and failing—thin and wobbly, as though at any moment your father will burst into the clearing and banish you all to your cabins. 

Eddie whirls around to rush by your side, but Chrissy’s already tugging you into the cradle of her arms, reassuring him that she’s got you. “You guys go finish up, I’ll take her back to the cabin,” Chrissy explains, running a hand over the back of your head. Your body shakes, heart still pounding away from the suddenness of his antagonizing. “Andy, do you have to be such an asshole all the time? Grow up!” 

His reply is the wiggle of his fingers and a mocking, drawn out ‘boo’ that has Eddie nearly lunging forward again to shove him back into the ground, before Steve draws him back and reminds him he needs the job, that Andy isn’t worth it, that Eddie will meet up at your cabin later.  

 ——

 The two of you dress in silence. The wood of your shared cabin creaks from ages of wear and tear as you mill about, shifting around one another, gathering your things. You manage a pair of shorts and a long tee shirt, one of the Corroded Coffin ones Eddie had made, and settle down at the foot of your bed with a pillow pressed tight to your chest. 

Chrissy does more or less the same. Brushes her hair at the small wooden vanity in the corner, washes off the little makeup she’s worn that evening, and hurried into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Upon return you’ve found she’s slipped on a pair of silky pajama shorts and a ratty old tee with the Hawkins High logo on it from when you both were still in high school.

It’s funny to think a month ago you walked across that graduation stage. Had collected your diploma, cheered on Eddie for finally receiving his after hard work and dedication to see it come to fruition, and started the beginning of a new season in your life. Endless opportunity awaited the both of you—all of you here at the camp, really. Recent graduates, those trying to figure out their path, trying to determine what they want to do. 

It’s funny to think Chrissy and some of the others on the basketball team had always been strangers to you. Coworkers during the summer, but otherwise people you generally avoided. Ignored. Head down, eyes ahead—it always worked best that way. Your eyes travel down to the neck of your shirt where it falls down a bit around your shoulder, skin still prickling from where Andy had grabbed at you. 

Chrissy catches the movement, brows knitting together on her forehead. “I don’t know why you just sit back and let him act like that toward you. He’s an asshole.”

“He’s an employee,” you remind her, toying with the frayed edge of your shorts. A string dances beneath your fingertip; you wind it around the first indent in your skin, twirling, tugging. “I’m…my dad left me in charge, but I’m not used to this. Any of this. It’s easy for you.”

“What do you mean?” She scoots closer to the edge of her bed. 

“You’re Chrissy Cunningham. People listen to you. At school, they’d part like the Red Sea for you,” you tell her coolly, shrugging. “It’s different for people like me.”

People who walk the halls for years at school, flying under the radar. No one knows you, no one talks to you—not really, at least. You never minded it. Hadn't then, and still do not now. It might have made it easier having someone in your corner, someone to take you under their wing, push you to fly. And sure you had your friends, a small circle, but you preferred the safety in solitude. 

Then there were those like Chrissy, Jason and their friends. Those who shone in the light. Shiny, sparkly things. The kinds of people others were drawn to. Those who people naturally gravitate towards, if only for a chance under the sun. A moment in the spotlight. And you know they’re not perfect. Everyone has their own stories to tell, struggles ahead of them, trials they’ve faced. 

But in high school, in life thus far where you’re either in or you’re out based on what those around you can see and perceive on the superficial exterior alone, you’ve always been out. 

And that’s all you know. 

“Look—it doesn’t matter regardless,” Chrissy says, pinching lip between her teeth, releasing it in a frustrated huff. “Has he always been like that toward you?”

There’s always been an antagonistic relationship between the two of you. Started back in sophomore year when you’d caught him cheating off of your test in math class, and had told your teacher. After that, and a failing grade on his part, he’d been nothing but persistent in reminding you you’d been the reason he’d failed that class and needed to remain in summer school that year. 

The downside also being that you were both still campers at sleep away camp by that point, and would argue over every little competition Camp Firefly hosted. And when he’d applied to be a counselor once old enough, you’d nearly begged your dad to not hire him, but couldn’t bring yourself to explain why. 

Seemed so silly at the time. Still does. Being unable to bring yourself to just plant your feet around him and take no shit from him. 

You grimace. “Yeah.”

“I wish you would say something then. People like that keep doing that because they think it’s okay. They see that you’re not going to say anything and they take advantage of it,” she says, shifting up and off of her bed and onto yours. “I, uh…my mom is kind of like an ‘Andy’ in my life. And for a really long time I just let her…talk to me like that. But no one should berate you, make you question yourself, wonder if you’re good enough.”

Her hand rests lightly against your bare kneecap. Your eyes trail there, and hers meet yours hesitantly, but you cover the weight of her skin with your own palm and feel the corners of your lips upturn. 

“You know, you’re different than I thought you would be,” you murmur thoughtfully, eyes darting up to light ones. Her head tips to her side and you continue, “I thought you might be…scary.” 

Your eyes pinch shut in embarrassment and she bubbles with side shaking laughter. “You thought I was scary? I thought you would be the scary one.” 

“Me?” Your finger presses to your sternum. 

“You were always so involved in school, good grades, on the yearbook committee, a scholarship student for your business school. And now you’re my boss, which is pretty awesome at nineteen years old,” she tells you, shoulder bumping against yours. 

“Just for the summer,” you remind her. “My dad is still the director, just managing from home.”

“Even so. Looks like we both misjudged one another.”

She nods. “Looks like it.”

With a sigh, you shift down onto your back, not minding at all when Chrissy arranges herself comfortably at your side, her arm slung over her waist, eyes trained on the wooden ceiling. The gentle inhalations and exhalations from both of you intermingle in the humid summer air, the gentle hum of your fan blowing a backdrop alongside the chirp of crickets and bellows of bullfrogs straying from the lake. 

“Hey…” Chrissy breaks the silence, and your head turns on the pillow to look at her. “If we’re going to be cabin mates for the next month or so, I think it would be nice if we were, you know, friends.” 

“I’d like that,” you admit, and it comes easily. 

Easy like breathing, what with the way she grins at you like you’ve ignited new hope within her soul. Mouth opening to speak, you’re interrupted by the swift raps of knuckles on a door, and without even asking her to, Chrissy hops up off the bed and flounces over to the door, hair swishing as she goes. 

The door opens and you really shouldn’t be surprised to see Eddie. Eddie’s standing there in a Metallica tank top, the sides cut for a larger hole, revealing the smattering of ink across his form. Heart clenching, you rise to your feet as Chrissy opens the door further and urges him into the open space, arms circling his waist as he draws you flush against his chest. A hand rests on the nape of your neck, the other rubbing a slow circle between your shoulder blades. 

Chrissy whistles a tune unfamiliar as she makes her way back to her bed, kicking her feet up on a pillow. Feeling your cheeks warm, you step back, mindful of your company. Circling your palm in his own, you drag him onto the front step of your cabin, taking in the glow of the moonlight up above. Wings of fireflies bat around you, their glowing bulbs flickering around the lamp hanging on the porch, a moonlit song only they know. 

“I wanted to check up on you,” he says once the screen door is shut behind him, palm coming to rest on your cheek. “He’s an asshole. That whole Henry Creel bullshit.”

“I’m okay,” you promise, leaning up to press your lips to his. “Don’t wanna talk about him.” 

“Think Chrissy will let me stay tonight?” he murmurs, forehead pressing to yours. His nose slides down the bridge of yours, prods at your cheek until your lips twitch into a smile. His teeth flash with his grin at that. “There she is.” 

“You're on duty,” you remind him, though the idea is tempting. 

Summer before being Eddie’s girlfriend was one thing, your first summer as his girlfriend is another. Separation feels daunting. The craving to be near is stronger now than ever before. 

“The little gremlins can survive one night with Steve.”

“Eddie…” He buries his face against your shoulder, swaying you left to right in his arms. “Thanks for coming. But I promise I’m fine. Plus, I think I actually made a new friend tonight.”

“You and Cunningham, hmm?” 

“She’s…she’s actually really nice.” 

“I’m glad.” His head shifts, lips pressing into your neck until you wriggle and writhe in his arms, earning a chuckle out of the man. “I’ll miss you. Maybe you’ll come visit me in my dreams.”

“You’re such a sap, Munson.” Nose wrinkling, you reach up to comb at the curls tickling your cheek. “Who knew?” 

“There are exceptions to every rule.” 

You grin, heart fluttering away in your chest as he takes a step back and makes his way down the stairs leading to your cabin. There are three words that bubble on your lips, three words you’ve never shared with anyone before. And it’s fitting they form for this man, this person. 

But it’s not time. Not yet. So instead you lean your elbows onto the railing and blow him a kiss, snorting as he dramatically smacks it against his chest and falls backward into a heap on the forest floor below. 

“Go, shoo,” you tease, giggling as he rolls over and pushes himself onto all fours, shaking out his hair. 

“You wound me, sweetheart.”

Three words. 

Not now. 

“Goodnight, Ed.”

He grins. Waves. 

Three beautiful words. 

But you have all the time in the world anyway; there’s no rush. 

“Goodnight.” 

 ——

 It’s an accident that causes you to end up in Nurse Mooney’s cabin. She’s one of the newest additions to the camp. A highly educated individual, with years of nursing experience under her belt, and exceptional with the children. It’s one thing you’ve heard over and over again from the kids after every scape, fall, and tumble. There’s also the increasingly curious fact that Steve Harrington himself seems to be enamored with the woman, having been found already on more than one occasion visiting the medical cabin. 

You find yourself there presently. A hike with Jonathan and Argyle turned sour when a tree branch whipped you in the face, slicing at the sensitive flesh of your cheek. The kids had screamed, jolting on the spot when you hissed and pressed a hand to your bleeding skin, fingers pulling back soaked in scarlet red. Will had nearly passed out and Max cursed. Dustin called for Argyle, nearly blowing your eardrum in the process. And Mike and Lucas shoved you along the path back to camp, leaving El behind to help make sure her step-brother would make it back okay. 

Which is how you find yourself now, slipping into the cabin and calling out her name, only to find Steve himself sitting atop an examination table, smiling softly at the woman who presses a bandaid with numerous breakfast foods in a cartoonish style on them to his bloodied knee cap. The two whirl your way, Steve’s cheeks burning hot as you approach, while Nurse Mooney tips her head up to the sky before noticing your bloodied cheek, urging you forward with the wave of her hand. 

“What happened to you?” Steve breathes out, rushing over to tip your chin up with an index finger. “It’s not—”

“No, no. I got in a fight with a tree and it won. No need to worry Eddie,” you tell him, curling your fingers around his wrist and shoving it away gently from your face. “Seriously. Don’t worry him over this. He’s busy with the kids.”

Nurse Mooney shuffles about in the distance, setting up what you assume to be the things she’ll need to patch you up. Your eyes flicker upward to Steve’s, mirth bubbling in your gut. “Why are you here?”

“Mind your business,” he warns, voice dropping into a gravelly grumble. 

“It’s just curious.”

“She’s a good nurse.”

“I’m sure,” you tease, grinning widely. “She’s also really pretty, intelligent, talented and—”

“Shhh. Will you stop it? Next time you and Eddie want me to cover so you can canoodle in the woods I’ll just so happen to be busy.”

You pout. “No fun, Harrington.”

“You two will be having no fun if you keep it up.” He glances over his shoulder, earning a smile from the woman. “I don’t want to mess this one up, okay?”

The seriousness in his tone gives you pause. Swallowing, you nod. Steve’s love life has been a bit of an…interesting tale as of late. He chalks it up to losing his dating “mojo,” but you know Steve. Steve with his heart full of love ready to be given, an immeasurable kindness, and a tenacity that always surprises you. He’s also a wonderful friend, ‘mother’ to the children, and sacrificial for those he loves. Anyone Steve Harrington loves will be a lucky partner. The thought alone sobers you, mouth setting into a firm line. 

“Just…protect your heart, okay?” You wiggle his arm with your hand. His lips curl upward into a dopey grin. “I care about you, you know? Seeing as you’re in a semi-questionably romantic relationship with my boyfriend.” 

“Shut up,” he laughs, but there’s no malice there. “You look a mess.”

“You’re an idiot.”

But he’s grinning. A wide smile that makes your heart clench as he runs a hand down the side of your arm and waves Nurse Mooney goodbye. As soon as the screen door shuts, you’re ordered to jump up onto the examination table, wincing as Nurse Mooney leans forward to assess the damage to your cheek. She winces as you do, mouth turning downward, a soft exhale of breath falling from her softly parted lips. 

“Going to need some steri strips.” At your grimace, she continues, “It’ll need to be cleaned first. Tree really got you good, did it?” 

You laugh, but it only brings a new wave of pain to the wound. “Ouch, please don’t make me laugh.”

She works in silence. Gathering the things she needs on a rolling table, getting to work on cleaning out your wound, apologizing every time a blinding flash of pain hits. Once the wound has been washed, she pulls over a rolling chair and starts to apply the strips, brows drawn into a furrow, attention fully dedicated to your cheek. 

“So your first time working at a summer camp, huh?” 

“Yeah.”

“Are you enjoying it?” 

Her mouth twitches upward. “It’s different than what I’m used to, but I’m enjoying myself, yeah.”

“What were you doing before this?” you wonder out loud, gasping as her gloved finger accidentally brushes the sensitive flesh around your wound. 

“Sorry.” She exhales, grabbing another strip and pressing it into place. “I worked in trauma for two years.”

“So this is a lot slower?”

“Definitely. Scraped knees are a relief compared to some of the things I’ve seen at the hospital,” she admits, leaning back onto the chair and stripping her gloves off. “A walk in the park compared to car accidents, stab wounds and all of that.”

Stomach dropping, you swallow. “Well, we’re happy to have you. Now you can put bandaids on paper cuts for days on end.” You let out an uneasy laugh. 

“You’ll keep those on for ten days. Just to be safe. Shouldn’t leave a scar.”

“Thank you.” You hop off of the table, making your way over to the cabin door. “The kids love you. Everyone does…actually.”

“Glad I can be of help. And…try to keep away from low hanging branches, will you?”

“Will do.” 

 ——

 About a week after the campfire debacle, you find yourself sitting in the craft cabin with Robin and Nancy and some of the girls, fashioning friendship bracelets with colorful threads. Your fingers work meticulously, winding together the colors, bottom lip pinched between your teeth. 

Your table is presently occupied by Max Mayfield, her own eyes trained on her bracelet in front of her, though she’s been silent for some time now. Exhaling, you finish off the line you’re working on and cup the bottom of your jaw in your palm, watching as the younger girl continues with her crafting, paying you no attention. 

Outside, you can hear the gentle breeze rustling the leaves. The cicadas that sing their morning song. The laughter of children faraway on the lake. Within, you can hear Nancy praising her kids for making the “most beautiful macaroni art” and Robin exclaiming she’s never seen a more beautiful “caterpillar egg carton.” But Max remains quiet and stoic, focused on her task at hand, not uttering a word. 

“Do you think Eddie will like this?” you ask, trying to stir up conversation. 

Nimble fingers raise the red, white and black presently half made friendship bracelet in the air. Some of his favorite colors are thrown into one. Max lifts her head, eyes running over it appraisingly. Cold—though not directed at you—empty blue. She continues to work on hers. Green, blue, and white. 

“Do you ever just…feel like…” She stops herself. Screws her face into a grimace and adds a few more lines to her bracelet as you ruminate in silence. 

“Like…?”

“It sounds crazy.”

“You know you can always talk to me. Right, Max?” 

She swallows. “Do you ever just have a feeling that something bad is going to happen? I don’t know how to explain it, but I’ve been having these nightmares and I—” Another pause, her mouth setting into a firm line. 

Hesitantly, you reach across the table and slide your hand over her forearm. “You’re safe here. I can assure you that.”

“I know. I know,” she sighs, “it’s probably nothing.”

“Max, if it’s worrying you that much, do you want me to talk to your mom? Have her come pick you—”

“No. No, please don’t call my mom. Ever since Billy…and then Neil…”

You’ve heard the stories. The whispers around town by those who spewed rumor and vitriol for the game of it—for their own personal enjoyment. Had heard Neil Hargrove left her, abandoned her after his son had died, how they’d been left and moved into the trailer park. It’s how her and Eddie became so close. A brotherly figure to his “Red,” as he always affectionately calls her, even despite her grumbling that he annoys her. It’s all bark no bite, though. 

But you’ve also heard about her mom. About the hardships she’s been facing. About how Max has been struggling in school, with her relationships. It drives you up and out of your chair, shuffling to the other side of the wooden table to settle down on the bench beside her. 

“You know you can always come to me. For anything, right?” 

She nods, eyes downcast. 

“I won’t call your mom,” you promise her, hand resting against her shoulder. “But if you keep having these nightmares, or if they get worse, please tell one of us. Eddie, Steve, myself—anyone, okay?” 

“Okay,” she agrees. She waits a moment and lifts your bracelet between her fingers. “He’ll like it.”

“Think so?”

She wiggles her brows and shoulders, that fleeting grin of hers like sunshine piercing the clouds on a rainy day. “It’s coming from you, he’ll like it.”

You continue on in silence until the sun starts to set over Camp Firefly. You work on your bracelet for Eddie, and hers for Lucas (though she’ll never admit to that). It’s not until you hear the dinner bell from the mess hall that you extract yourselves from the tables, sliding away from the wooden benches with your colorful strands finally finished in hand. 

She walks ahead of you, footsteps eager, slipping into the open wooden doors and making her way over to her friends. Whereas you wander up behind the man you’ve been looking for, in quiet conversation with Dustin, and clap your hands over his eyes. Fingers curl around your wrists like bracelets, a low rumble of laughter shaking the shoulders pressing lightly against your hips. 

“Who is it?” you muse. 

“Gag me,” Mike groans, earning a harsh slap from El. 

“Hmm, I wonder. The options are so vast, you know?” 

Without another word, he’s climbing up and off the wooden bench, dragging you out of the mess hall with a quick nod in Steve’s direction. Once you’re outside, he rushes you around the back of the building and presses your back up against the wall, pinning you in place. 

“Oh, hey.” 

“Hey,” you murmur, mouth millimeters from his. 

He tastes like his usual cinnamon gum and a hint of smoke as he kisses you, lips soft and yielding beneath your own. It’s a gentle give and take, your fingers sliding beneath the fabric of his camp issued shirt, scratching along the hair disappearing beneath his green shorts. Breath fans along your lips, his body coming in closer, the fullness of high thigh between yours. 

“We can’t,” you whine, forehead dropping against his. 

“I know. I know.” 

Another kiss. Those lips drop lower, pressing to the hinge of your jaw. The curve beneath your ear, the side of your neck, until you’re giggling and squirming beneath him, clutching at the sides of his waist, panting for air. His palms glide along your hips, pausing at the strip of string hanging outside of the pocket. Curious, he snatches it free and lifts it in the air between the two of you. 

“You made this for me?” The corners of his mouth twitch gleefully. Dimple popping in his cheek. 

“No.” Your tennis shoe digs into the ground beneath you, forest floor crunching under your toes, head down, cheeks burning. 

“These are my favorite colors, though.” 

“Yeah well…uh…”

“Tie it on me,” he says abruptly, drawing your gaze to his left wrist he’s draped the bracelet over. 

“You really don’t have to wear it. It’s silly. I just spent the day in the craft cabin and I thought—” 

He smacks a kiss to your cheek, silencing you. “Please. Humor me.”

He draws you in closer with a hand circling your waist. You step into the cradle of his arms and grip the two ends of the bracelet, pulling them taut enough around his wrist where he’ll have some room, but it won’t slide off of him. Once satisfied, you fasten it and step back, admiring your work. Eddie wiggles his wrist in the air, admiring the red, white and black stitching. Eyes dart to yours. 

“I love it,” he says, swooping down to kiss you soundly. Until your lips tingle and your belly bursts to life with butterflies. “Come on. Before all the good food is gone.”

 ——

 He doesn’t know why…or really how…he ends up here. His feet crunch against gravel as he opens the door to his car, peering up at the building. 

Before him is a home. 

Set back against a driveway, stain glass windows caked in endless layers of dust. His heart pitter patters in his chest, unaware of what is to come. All he knows is there’s a sense of foreboding. A curiosity that he doesn’t wish to follow through with, and yet feels compelled all the same. 

The Creel house, where those murders heard only in newspapers happened. A family, here one moment in Hawkins and gone the next. Brutally murdered, bones broken, eyes ripped from skulls. 

Dead. 

Gone. 

Lives put to a halt. 

The voice in his mind calls his name again. Has been for some time now. Days, weeks, he’s not sure. But it’s a gentle caress in his mind all the same. A quiet whisper of ‘Andy’—a siren’s call that has him in its grasp. 

‘Andy’ as he brushes his fingers across dust dirtied shelves and bookcases in the home awash with moonlight, peering at various trinkets and once well-loved furnishings. The dust shifts and stirs around him. A halo of sparkling debris that flutters and flits around him as he peruses the interior of the home, taking in all it has to otter. Beautifully vaulted ceilings, sprawling staircases, lovely kitchen, dining room and sitting area. 

He tries to picture the home when they move in. Hopes settled on their shoulders, new keys tossed into their hands, ready to start anew as a family. Now, he stands in a barren wasteland. A place where everything comes to die. 

His feet carry him up the staircase, eyes roving the pictures on the walls, flashlight catching on the dust particles shifting as he moves. There’s a picture of what he assumes is the family hanging on the wall. A beautiful wife, doting father, a golden haired little girl, and a straight faced boy. Henry. His mind fills in the name, and now it settles on a face. Dark hair, severe blue eyes. 

He wonders how a boy, how a young boy like this, could ruin a whole family. How he could look at them, intent on killing, and follow through with it all. 

That compulsion to learn, the compulsion to simply be here, drives Andy further upward, pausing on a room. Inside he finds a wooden panel on the floor that doesn’t quite sit flush. It creaks and groans as he steps on it, edge popping upward. Curious, Andy sets his flashlight down onto the dusty floorboards and pushes up at the broken piece. Within lies a jar, covered like every other inch of this home in a thick layer of dirt and dust. Blowing out a breath, the dust swirls upward, revealing endless black widow spiders within. 

Fear chokes him. Causes him to stumble back, tossing the jar onto the bed above, clutching at his flashlight like it’s a lifeline. Shallow breaths puff in and out of his lungs. Gasps that rattle deep within. And then he sees it. The edge of a book, just above where the jar had been beneath the floorboards. A leather bound cover, smooth to the touch when he grows the nerve to pluck it out and brush along the edges, the binding. 

Etched into the corner is ‘Henry Creel.’ Crude in nature, no more than scratches in the front covering. His fingers brush along the letters, opening the first page to the doodles within. Images of spiders. Long limbs, cruel fangs, beady eyes. Smoky dark drawings, splashed with red streaks. On the next page are bunnies. Long ears, fluffy tails, wide eyes. But it’s the eyes that have his chest rising and falling faster. Eyes that should be bright and warm are crossed out with painted red x marks, slashes on a page, deep as blood. 

Gashes. 

Streaks of anger.

He swallows. Bile rises in his throat. 

He should leave the book. He knows he should. But he tucks it away in his backpack. Tucks it away to let it sit there for a rainy day as he clambers up to his feet, rushing back down the stairs from where he came, neatly stumbling on the bottom step in his haste. 

The front door beckons him forth. Glass panel gleaming in the moonlight, casting a glow along the far wall. Against the fall wall is a clock, a gorgeous grandfather clock that seems to call his name. 

Whispers to him. 

Sings to him. 

Urges him onward. 

He obeys the call, carried over by what feels like a tether, an invisible string. 

There’s a ringing in his ears. 

A probing at the base of his skull.

“Touch it…”

His fingers prickle in anticipation. Hover over the face, worn by years and broken now. 

Silenced by time. 

He hears a voice again. 

A phantom in his ear. A caress against his spine. 

A push. 

His toes brush the edge of the clock, fingers inching closer. 

Tugs the sleeve of his hoodie up around his hand and wipes the back of it across the face of the clock. Exposes the numbers and arms within. 

“What the…” His voice echoes in the home, drowned out by the beat of his heart, when the arms start to move. 

Slow, swirling circles. 

Arms that twirl around and around. Around and around and they don’t stop. 

He hears it then. 

The slow tick-tock. 

Tick-tock. 

Tick-tock. 

A clanging chime, a reverberating gong. 

Loud. 

It’s so damn loud. 

He staggers backwards, the floor shaking beneath him. 

Rattling, tearing, ripping. 

Red illuminates a crack that inches before the clock, the earth pulling at the seams. 

Opening. 

“What th—”

It’s a cry. Cut off and broken as a vine whips up and curls around his ankle. 

Tugs him. 

Drags him. 

He falls onto his stomach. Screams and claws at the ground. At the rug that betrays him, body sliding closer and closer to the rip. 

He screams for someone who never hears. Screams until the walls rattle, hands clutching for purchase on anything, nails skidding on wood. 

Begs for mercy. For death. For a savior. For the reaper. 

He screams until his throat rubs raw, until he’s pleading. 

Anything. 

A sacrifice. 

A deal with God. 

Or the devil. 

“I’ll do anything!”

And then, out of the ground, out of the opening to hell itself, a single word in a voice that sounds nothing of this world. 

The vine around his ankle slackens. 

“Andy…”

 ——

 Two weeks into camp, and everything is running smoothly. You’ve had no major issues, only minor squabbles sorted in your office between campers, and your counselors have been on their best behavior. Sure, there’s the occasional slip up here and there, but that’s to be expected. 

It’s on that second week you find yourself helping put chairs out around a campfire, a projection screen stretched wide across the lawn. All around you kids buzz with anticipation, eagerly looking on to catch a glimpse of what you’ll be playing. For the children it’s “Never Ending Story,” and for the counselors off duty for the night (being you, Chrissy, Steve, Eddie, Jason and Andy) you’ve decided on your own movie night within the gymnasium once you finish setting up for the counselors who are working that evening as a compromise. 

By popular demand it’s “Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter,” and though you hate the idea of playing a movie such as that while quite literally at a sleep away camp, there’s no arguing the decision once it’s made. 

“It’ll be fun,” your coworkers remind you when they let you know what they’ve decided on; however, you find it anything but. 

“Relax, baby,” Eddie coos, fingers curling around the widest part of your hips, tugging you close. The chair he’s holding drops with a clatter onto the forest floor, dark eyes boring into your own. “It’s a movie. It’ll be okay, I promise. And if you get really scared…well, you can always hold my hand.”

“Gonna be my knight in shining armor, huh?” you ask jovially, taking a step closer to him. “Chase away Jason for me?”

“I would run so far away from Jason with you,” he says, and you snort. “I’m not fucking with him. Are you kidding? We’re camp counselors, which makes us Jason’s prey. Our best bet is mad dashing through the woods holding hands.”

“I feel like that’s what you’re not meant to do in these movies. Look at Halloween.” 

At your pout, he continues, “The kids are going to have so much fun. It’s a night off for us. You’ve been working so hard and you deserve to relax a little bit. Want me to go grab you a bowl of M&Ms later? I’ll even take out the ones you don’t like.”

“You mean eat the ones I don’t like,” you tease, fingers sliding down his forearm, along his Wayne tattoo, newly added on the inside of his left bicep, and toy with the threads of the bracelet you made him tied around his left wrist.  

“It’s what any good boyfriend would do. Or at least I think. Haven’t really had much experience with it.”

“You’re doing great,” you reassure him, looping the thread of his bracelet around your index finger. “You kept it.”

“‘Course I did. A pretty girl made it for me. Gonna keep that forever.” His arms loop lower around your waist, edging along the lowest part of your spine, verging on slightly inappropriate with the kids coming down at any moment, but you don’t shove him away this time. 

Your breath mingles for a moment, lips inches apart, before Steve’s breaking you apart, uttering you’re on a time crunch and shouldn’t be canoodling. You don’t argue. In fact, the remainder of the setup moves swiftly. Bodies weave in and out of one another, prepping chairs and tables for snacks, as well as sticks for the campfire s’mores. As a tradition, movie nights are also party nights. Nights where the kids can have all the sugary treats they wish, and will never have to tell a soul about it. 

It’s not long before rows of chairs are set and readily available for campers and the multiple tables are full of various snacks, treats and offerings. Groups of children trickle out from their respective cabins all dressed in their comfiest clothes, some donning slippers, others with blankets tucked within their arms. Each gathers their movie snacks before choosing a seat. You, on the other hand, stand faraway in the back, watching as the kids treat each other with candor and kindness, offering open spaces to their fellow campers, eager anticipation for the movie buzzing in their sugar enhanced systems. 

“It’s a shame,” Andy says from behind you. Jolting on the spot, you whirl around, hand over your heart because you hadn’t seen him there. 

It’s a shame. 

Your mind hitches at his words, at the peculiarity of them given the tone of the evening, head shifting enough to eye him precariously through your lashes. “What is?”

He pauses. Stares off into space for a moment. Eyes on nothing in particular as Eddie works on setting up the projector with Steve, handing out hugs like they’re candies when little ones run up to thump against their thighs. A chuckle spills from him, head shaking. 

There’s a choke of breath at your side. The frantic brush of his fingers along a bicep, sweat slicking his brow. “I, ah, I’m not feeling well. Do you think I can just head to my cabin?”

You stiffen, head nodding. “Yeah, sure. Do you need to get checked out by Nurse Mooney?” 

“N-no,” he says, chest rising and falling rapidly. “I—I’ll be fine.”

Without another word, he’s rushing off toward the cabins, rubbing at the back of his neck with his head down. 

“What was that about?” Chrissy asks, appearing at your side in a pair of her camp shorts and a hoodie. She’s put french braids in her hair today, eyes bright in the moonlight. Even dressed down like this, she’s impossibly charming. 

“Has Andy been acting odd lately?” Your words are quiet. Slow. 

“Like odder than usual?” She laughs, but the look on your face has her pause. Lips turning downward, she probes, “What’s wrong?”

“He just seemed on edge all of a sudden. I mean he’s an asshole, but he’s always confident. This felt…different. He seemed nervous. Uncertain or worried about something.”

“I mean…maybe he has been? Yesterday Jason said while they were on lifeguard duty Andy just sort of stared off into space. Like he was there…but not.”

“That’s how he’d just been with me.” 

Frozen in space and time, looking out into nothingness, and then snapping into reality. What had he been looking at? 

“He’s probably just in his head about something. Or trying to sneak off with Tina again,” she says, scrunching her nose and looping her arm through yours. She hugs it tight to her body and you melt a little into her embrace. She gives a little wiggle, pulling you from your silent reverie. “Wanna go watch the movie now? Looks like the guys just finished setting up, so we can start heading to the gym. I’ll probably watch it through my fingers, though. I hate slashers.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, still watching the space between the tree line where Andy had walked through. Can still picture the sweat on his brow, the furrow of them, the downturn of his lips that you’ve always been convinced are permanently set into a sneer. “Sure. Me too.”

 ——

 “So everything is going well?” 

“Amazingly, really,” you reassure him, glancing out of the office, capturing Chrissy’s gaze as she and Steve teach the kids proper form on archery. There’s a line of them, arms stretched back, arrows poised at the ready, waiting for Steve’s whistle to blare out. “Kids are great. Counselors are fine. No one has been seriously injured. Nothing has been destroyed—well, minus the one basketball that popped. But other than that, nothing to report here.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you laugh airily, twining the phone cord around your fingertip. “I promise, dad. You just focus on getting better. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” he says gruffly, shifting where he must be laying on the couch, maybe the bed. “Femur is healing just fine, doc says.”

“I’m glad.” Your exhale is one of relief, shoulders slouching comfortably. 

“How’s my boy?” 

His boy. 

Eddie. 

You’d been worried when you first started dating. Especially after the weed mishap during one of those first few times you and Eddie had spent time together. But he’d always loved the guy, especially knowing Wayne for so long, and accepted him into the fold right away. It had been oddly seamless, and ever since he'd taken up calling Eddie ‘his boy.’ Your heart always burns with it, even now, knowing Eddie’s in the music cabin, likely strumming away on a guitar or teaching someone how to play an instrument. Knowing that Eddie’s loved by Wayne, but also by your own family. Fiercely, in a way that sometimes scares you, even. 

“He’s good,” you say softly, back pressing against the wall. “He’s really good.”

“I’m glad, honey. Never seen you light up like you do with that boy. He better be treating you right.”

“Always.” 

And it’s not a lie. Eddie’s been perfect in the past year. Ever respectful, kind, caring and affectionate. No squabbles, not even a minor tiff. Sometimes you question if that’s normal—if two people can get along so well there’s no reason for them to argue. Friends have commented it’s coming, to just wait. But you’ve yet to see it. You’ve seen him get angry, sure, but never directed at you. 

There’s a pause and a swallow on the other end, the smacking of lips after taking a gulp of whatever drink he’s likely got next to him. “Good. Good. I really miss you, hon. Just hope you know.”

“I miss you, too, dad.” There’s a crack at the end of your words, a choke around a muffled sob. Your nose wrinkles, eyes burning with unshed tears. “This was always our thing.”

“I’m not checking out just yet, baby girl. Just a surgery, and just this summer, you hear me?” At your watery laugh, he continues, “You’ll be home before you know it. Bet you grew another inch taller while you’ve been gone.”

“Dad,” you bemoan, rolling your eyes, dragging your forearm across moist lashes. “Two more weeks, and then you’ll see me every day for the rest of the summer. Bet you’ll even get sick of me.”

There’s an incredulous splutter at that. A guffaw that follows, your lips twitching upward. “Never, baby girl. Always and forever, right?” 

Always and forever. 

It’s what you have said ever since you were a little girl and mom had left. Ever since he sat you down on that couch in your old living room, spoke to you softly and gently—like one would speak to a baby doe—and explained all the reasons why it wasn’t your fault. All the reasons it would never be your fault. Ever since it had just been the two of you and dad had to learn how to be both roles in your life without any sort of warning. Ever since he tried his hardest, worked extra hours, and still managed to attend every school or extracurricular function you partook in, while also driving you around to friend’s houses, making sure you were fed and always had everything you’d ever need. Ever since you decided for the rest of your life, it was the two of you against the world. 

You’d never been left wanting for anything. 

Never gone without anything. 

Your best friend. Confidant. The first love of your life. 

Eddie might be the second; in fact, he is the second. 

But before that, it’s always been you and dad. 

Always and forever. 

Something no outside source, no distance, no circumstance could ever take away. You’d do anything for him. Make mountains move, try and part the sea, uproot heaven and hell. So you grin. And you press a hand to your heart, smiling to yourself. A secret thing, meant for him and you. Stolen away from the world. Precious. 

“Always and forever,” you promise. 

 ——

 Music blares from a shoddy speaker in the dimly lit cabin, illuminated by the sun rising through the trees, leaves swaying and shifting in the gentle breeze outside the softly parted window. The same crappy, hand-me-down, camp issued one that Andy needs to thump with the side of his fist every so often to keep the music playing. 

Most of the campers and counselors have already made their way to the mess hall for breakfast. He’s stayed behind, finishing up a morning run and not quite hungry at all. He hasn’t been in a couple days—figures it’s the giant dinner he had the night before. The cafeteria staff had made their signature baked macaroni and cheese. 

No one stops at just one bowl of that. 

He’s warm. Unbearably so. And it feels harsher than the weather outside. This tangible heat that crawls beneath his skin, skitters along like thousands of tiny spiders on his flesh—in his flesh. Fingers reach up to scratch at nothing; gouge scratches into tanned skin, darkened from hours spent sitting on the dock, watching children in the lake day in and day out. 

Ice water does the trick. If only for a moment. He gulps down his first cup and pours another, leaving the refrigerator and freezer door open, despite the fact he can hear the camp princess shouting at him from across the way if she knew what he was doing now with her father’s precious electric bill. 

Someone needs to show her a damn lesson, he thinks. 

“We can…”

The voice startles him. He whirls on the balls of his feet, neck straining toward the open closet, wondering where the voice came from. He calls out into nothingness and is greeted with silence. Long, lingering, languishing silence. 

The glass thuds into the bottom of the kitchenette sink. Shatters against the strainer at the bottom. Andy reaches forward to grasp the shards, wincing as blood pools along the inside of his thumb and index finger, gliding down the inside of his wrist. Trembling, he makes his way to the bathroom, catching the sight of himself in the mirror. 

Dark circles sink into his under eyes. Purple lines that tell a tale of a man who hasn’t slept in days. He cringes at the sight, nearly throws his fist into the glass to eradicate the image of his own self, and flips the knob on the sink. His blood spills down the drain, a fresh bandage put into place as he sits down on the toilet seat. 

Hot. 

He’s still so damn hot. Scalding. Burning. Reeling from it. Eyes dart to the bathroom shower, to the tub there. A thought surfaces, swift and unprovoked. Unprompted, and yet it feels right. The water runs, knob pushed as far as it can go into the cold setting. As it fills the tub, he walks back into the kitchenette and pulls the few ice trays from the freezer. They fall one by one into the tub, dipping below the surface momentarily, and then bobbing at the top. Tiny little blessings that chill his skin upon reaching in to touch—ease the brewing ache in his bones. 

In silence, he strips out of his clothes. Catches on the streaks of black along the inside of his elbows, the curves of his skin. Like ink or spider webs injected into his veins, staining them. He touches them in the mirror, chest rising and falling rapidly, tracing the lines. He can feel them pulse beneath, blood pumping through the darkness; part of him wonders if it’ll only spread this—if it’ll only progress whatever is spilling throughout his system. 

Nurse Mooney will know, he rationalizes, kicking his green shorts off into the corner of the bathroom. He bobs his head for a moment in front of the mirror, brushing his teeth and humming along to the song, trying to distract. 

To deflect. 

To pretend. 

The brush clatters into the cup holder, plastic skittering across the counter in his over exertion. He tosses his baseball hat onto the toilet seat, cards his fingers through his hair, strands falling in disarray about his head. Sinks down into the ice bath, expecting the familiar burn to settle in like the many times his coaches would have him do after a particularly grueling basketball game. Only this time it’s different; this time it feels like an inferno hitting water, creating steam. An instantaneous relief washes over him, eyes shutting against the yellowy lights flickering in the ceiling above. 

“Andy…”

Ice. Cold dread slides down his spine, curls around him, steals his breath. Arms press along the sides of the tub, fingers clutching the edges, knuckles straining white. He calls for Chance to no avail. Only silence greets him—silence and the taunting of the radio in the next room. 

“I will have you, yes I will have you. I will find a way, and I will have you...”

“Hello?” He cries, clutching the shower curtain, sliding it closed. As if that’ll do anything. As if it’ll protect him. His head drops against bent knees, hands on his ears. “Anyone?”

“Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly...”

“This isn’t fucking funny anymore!” 

His voice cracks. Strains. Swallows around the edges of the sob crawling up his throat. He rocks. Back and forth, back and forth, fingers digging into his ears. The chatter of his teeth is harsh enough he feels like it knocks his brain around within his skull. Eighteen. He’s fucking eighteen and he whimpers, a broken thing, a plea for his mom. The utterance of her name through his shuddering lips. Thin and tight, echoing in the four walls of the bathroom, falling on deaf ears.

It’s a prank. 

Some dumb prank one of the kids or the other counselors are playing on him. 

It has to be. 

Has to be. 

“I will collect you and capture you...”

“I’m going to kick the living shit out of you!” Andy screams. 

The radio grows silent. 

His heart pounds in his chest. 

Sweat prickles on his forehead, drips down the side of his face. 

Every inch of his body, the dark swirls on the inside of his elbows, his wrists…they seem to pulse. To elongate beneath his skin, little tendrils that ebb and flow, reaching for something. 

Reaching, reaching, reaching. 

And then. 

Like spiders crawling across his skin, a chill spreads along the back of his neck. The eerie, grating voice of that thing he heard only once before in the Creel house whispers, “Andy…”

——

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If you made it all the way here, please let me know if you enjoyed. Thank you so, so much. Love, Luna 💌